Survive!
by Victoria Hughes
Summary: After a successful mission, something goes terribly wrong. Can Duo and Heero survive a crash, the desert, and OZ long enough for help to come? [Duo torture]
1. Prologue

Survive!  
  
By Minako  
  
** ** **  
  
Disclaimer: I, unfortunately, don't own Gundam Wing, or any of the characters thereof. Nor am I writing this story for profit. I don't have any money anyway, so don't sue me!  
  
** ** **  
  
Prolouge - Mission  
  
"The mission is to destroy the OZ base and obtain the data fields about the Peacecrafts," Heero announced.  
  
"Of course," nodded Duo. The two boys were seated in their Gundams, preparing for takeoff. The image of Heero on Duo's vid-comm link was slightly fuzzy, but otherwise acceptable. Eager to be off, Duo practically bounced in his seat. "Since we know what to do, can't we go now?"  
  
"Not until Quatre gives you the thumbs up," came the stolid reply.  
  
Only a moment later, a small vid-comm appeared in the lower corner of his veiwscreens, and an image of the blond pilot appeared. Over his shoulder, Trowa watched their progress. "All right, Duo, you've got a hole in sattelite coverage now," Quatre informed him with a small smile. "It'll last 7 minutes and 54 seconds, so get moving. Radio in at 5:00 AM tomorrow!"  
  
"Woohoo!" Duo hardly heard the last part as he gunned the thrusters and shot up into the air, not even bothering to relay the message to Heero as the Perfect Soldier followed him towards space. "Don't worry, Quatre, will do," he replied, not looking at the vid-comm link before tapping a button to close it. "Com'n, Heero, let's go kick some Leo ass!"  
  
"Hn," was the only reply before Duo entered the blackout stage of takeoff, and Heero's image disappeared from the screen.  
  
* * *  
  
Author's note: I know the opening is SOOOO bad! I'm terrible at starting fics, so I apologize. It'll get better, so please keep reading!  
  
* * *  
  



	2. Success

Chapter 1 - Success  
  
Warnings: Maybe a little graphic. Just a tiny bit. (And profanity.) Maybe PG.  
  
* * *  
  
Hashim gently eased his mini-thrusters to port, enabling him to continue to patrol his part of the   
sky. Nothing ever happened around here; man, where *were* all these Gundams everyone was   
talking about? If he ever saw one, he'd show that just one straight-thinking soldier could defeat a   
group of pathetic rebels any day. But for now, he just continued to patrol the little part of the sky   
that he was assigned to.  
  
Time to call in. "Leo 562 to Yukusho base," he said to the radio.  
  
A bit of crackling was his only reply before, "Leo 562 acknowledged."  
  
"All clear in Sector 14-D. Repeat, all clear in - "  
  
*whoosh*  
  
Hashim only had time to scream "Gundam!" before the beam scythe sliced through his Leo,   
cutting it to two pieces and exposing him to the vacuum of space. Hashim died in an instant, just   
before his Leo became a beautiful blossom of flame in the starry sky.  
  
****  
  
Duo laughed maniacally. "I'm the God of Death! All who see me die!" Inwardly, he cringed a little   
and wondered who wouldn't have a daddy coming home tomorrow. No, couldn't think about   
Mobile suits that way; just machines. Yeah. He chuckled deeply.  
  
Abruptly Heero appeared on the screen. "There will be havoc around here soon. You know what   
to do."  
  
Duo saluted with a cocky smirk. "Sure do, Heero. Just keep 'em busy a while."  
  
Heero remained emotionless, and Duo wondered for an instant if a block of stone would be more   
responsive. "You have twenty minutes, or I will assume you dead or captured."  
  
Duo dismissed that information as petty details. "Yeah, yeah. . ." His fingers nimbly flashed over   
the buttons in the cockpit, setting up a cloak for the Deathscythe to sneak a way in. A Leo would   
have had to bump into him to realize he was there. "On the flip side, then." Easing the thrust into   
quiet gear, he jetted past the collection of Leo's converging on Heero. Eh, he was the Perfect   
Soldier. He'd be fine.  
  
With so many focused on the single fighting Gundam, slipping in unnoticed proved a cinch. The   
main problem was docking, but a little playing around with the security system did the trick, and a   
docking bay opened as surely as for an envoy. Within a minute Duo was docked.  
  
The necessary supplies for the mission were scattered in the few spare places provided by the   
Deathscythe's cockpit. Duo set to casting about, locating his gun, several ZIP disks, a package of   
explosives, and naturally, his black cap, which he pulled down onto his head and over his eyes   
with a vigorous tug. He checked his watch: 14 minutes, 38 seconds left before he was 'dead or   
captured'. Duo smirked. A cinch. He rushed down the halls, holding his gun in a loose grip, ready   
to raise it in an instant. Left, left, center, middle right, left, right, if his memorization of the layout   
was correct.  
  
Must've been. Duo was standing right in front of Lab 231-A. The next step, of course, was to get   
in. That wouldn't be too difficult either. Reaching back into the base of his braid, he pulled loose a   
lock pick and wiggled it in the lock, waiting for the small clicks that meant one key punch was   
accepted and the next one could be inputted, and the louder *hissssssssssss* that indicated an   
opened lock. Two minutes exactly, and he got what he wanted. "Heh, I'd like to see Heero do   
*that*," Duo muttered before pressing the button marked OPEN. With a hydraulic hiss, the door   
slid wide.  
  
Three pairs of eyes spun to stare wide-eyed at the intruder. "What the -"  
  
Three gunshots rang out, and then there were three bullet holes in three different foreheads. Duo   
grimaced at the blood and brains scattered over the equipment, then pushed one lifeless body out   
of the way and began typing furiously, looking for Peacecraft information.  
  
Surprisingly, it wasn't hard to obtain - only one firewall, and a password, and you were in.   
Downloading the information, Duo glanced at his watch again. 6 minutes and 20 seconds before   
Heero left. Still plenty of time. Besides, he could cut a path to safety once in his Gundam -   
  
"Open the door!"  
  
Duo spun to see a rather big, powerful-looking man in the doorway, looking like he would crush   
something unless the door was opened, and fast. Duo's eyes widened slightly. It was definitely   
time to jet, unless he was ready to die. "Sorry, no can do," he shouted at the thick glass, and the   
man's mouth worked up and down as if at a loss for words. "Not used to being dissed, huh?"  
Duo muttered. He needed another way out.  
  
Another way out. Hmmmmm. . . his eyes fell on the venting system in the ceiling. Perfect. Duo   
ejected the ZIP disk from the huge computer and tucked it into his back pants pocket while the   
man pounded on the door as if it would get him into the lab.  
  
The man continued to pound away while Duo dragged a chair under the vent and stood on it,   
using a minature screwdriver (which had also been hidden in his braid) to patiently loosen and   
remove the cover. When it came free, he pulled himself up into the vent duct, about to crawl away   
when an immature whim struck him. Unable to resist, Duo hung his head out of the duct, his  
braid falling towards the floor, and stuck out his tounge at the enraged man. "Heh heh heh," he   
chuckled, then crawled through the vent system towards where he estimated his Gundam was,   
choking on the dust. Did they *ever* clean these things?  
  
  
Only one more thing to do. When Duo came to a crossways in the vents, he gently laid the   
explosives on the ground and flicked off the safety. The small package was akin to the stuff used   
to self-destruct the Gundams, and this was a slighter larger package than most. Once more Duo   
checked his watch - 3 minutes and 7 seconds. Time was getting short. Hurriedly Duo punched the  
remote control password, then removed the small transmitter-detonator from its latch on the   
explosives and clutched it tightly as he clambered down the vent.  
  
1 minute 27 seconds later, Duo dropped out of the vent duct again, gripping his handgun with his   
left hand and the tranmitter-detonator in his right. Docking bay 2-E was right in front of him.   
Perfect again. "Hell, some days *I* am the Perfect Soldier," Duo informed the empty dock before   
climbing into his Gundam and detaching from the base. Nothing felt as good as completing a   
mission without a hitch.  
  
Not far away, a huge pack of Leos were advancing. Laughing, Duo removed the cloaking device   
as fast as he could, powering up the beam scythe as did so. Green light washed the veiwing   
screens as the God of Death slashed 3 Leos apart in one swipe, grinning maniacally as he did so.   
"ORE WA SHINIGAMI!" Gradually, he cut a path away from the base.  
  
One last thing. "Let's see how they handle *this*, he smiled, pressing the detonation button.  
  
Immediately the sky blossomed in red and yellow and orange bursts as the huge OZ base exploded   
in brilliant colors. Ah, bliss. . . Ninmu Kanryou.  
  
Those words brought Heero to mind, and abruptly it occured to Duo to raise the   
ice-block-headed boy on vid-comm before Heero took off without him. He pressed the   
"Comm01" button - an instant link to Heero's Gundam - and called, "Hey, Heero! Let's jet!"   
  
There was no reply except static as the place where an image of Heero should've been, snowy   
spots reigned.  
  
* * *  
  
Okay, so this is my first action fic. I'm terrible at describing action too. Oh, well. If you don't like   
my style of writing at this point, you'd better just leave. Someday I'll get really good at this,   
though, watch!  
  
* * * 


	3. Disaster

Chapter 2 - Disaster  
  
Warnings: More graphic. We're travelling towards PG-13 in terms of bloody. Oh, and bad   
language.  
  
* * *  
  
There was no reply except static as the place where an image of Heero should've been, snowy   
spots reigned.  
  
"Heero? HEERO!" Duo shouted into the comm. No response. "Oh shit," muttered the pilot as the   
fun of the mission drained out of him. A thousand possible causes raced through Duo's mind, and   
he began to cut a path through the Mobile Suits furiously. "Shit shit shit shit shit . . ."  
  
Another rather large cluster of Leos blocked his way, and the God of Death cleared them out with   
a single blow - revealing the Wing Zero. Duo felt his chest tighten. It was badly damaged - the   
motions were jerky, the beam sword flickering in and out of existance. With agonizing slowness,   
the huge head turned towards Duo's Deathscythe. Duo smiled slightly. Of course Heero was still   
fighting. Of course. Nothing stopped him.  
  
Gripping the controls a little tighter, Duo thrusted towards the Wing Zero, cutting down Leos   
along the way. "I'm comin', I'm comin'," he muttered as he approached. "Just hang on a little   
longer - "  
  
It was in vain. His quick arrival made little difference as a Leo performed a kamikaze on Heero.   
With the slow responses of his Gundam, Heero didn't get the beam sword around fast enough,   
and the Leo crashed into the chest of the much larger Wing, exploding on impact. The Wing was   
flung backwards - and did nothing.  
  
Duo screamed "NOOOOOOO!" when the Wing Zero remained motionless, and spun to meet   
their attackers, slicing them to shreds. "You won't touch him," he snarled. If he could destroy this   
lot, then he could pick up Heero and get them both out of this quickly developing mess. If he had   
  
enough fuel. If Duo didn't get himself killed, too. If, always if.  
  
Something got through the Deathscythe Hell's defenses, and Duo was flung forward against the   
restraints as a blast of energy struck the back of his Gundam. Stunned, he struggled not to black   
out. A dozen warning lights flashed on the numerous panels of the cockpit. "Dammit," Duo   
strangled out, punching the Gundam assesment button. A full-body image of his Deathscythe  
from the front and side, insides and Gundanium armor, appeared in the lower left corner.   
Numerous arrows with blinking warnings popped up. "Dammit," Duo muttered again. A thousand   
small calculations ran through his mind as he rerouted circuts and switched power sources to   
improve voltage and accomodate movement.  
  
The controls were decidedly slower, Duo realized almost immediately as he swung the scythe   
towards the remaining Mobile Suits, which luckily were few. Just wonderful - two damaged   
Gundams and one pilot either dead or knocked unconcious. Things just didn't get much worse   
than this. At least they had comepleted the original mission.  
  
The Leo squad reduced even more, even with the Deathscythe's reluctant, slow responses, though   
many more hits got in, flinging Duo about the small cockpit. However, with the Yukusho base in   
ruins there simply weren't any more recruits to call in. Two more swings, and they were gone.  
  
The silence after battle was deafening. Duo sat breathing heavily in his cockpit, warning lights   
blinking furiously at him, but he took no notice as he gathered his wits once more. It always   
sucked when a battle went bad. His head was killing him for some reason. Duo chose to ignore it   
in favor of searching out Heero.  
  
Using the mini-thrusters was practically impossible now, and for the first time Duo realized that   
one of the many warnings indicated a fuel leak. "Landing's gonna be a whopper," he couldn't help   
noting with a smirk.  
  
Abruptly the image of the Wing Zero appeared in Duo's front veiwing screen. "Yes!" Duo   
whispered ecstatically. The huge Gundam was still motionless, but the thought of just deserting   
Heero out here just didn't stand to reason - first of all, Duo considered the tough boy to be his   
friend, and secondly, if he was captured, who *knew* what would happen. Using as little fuel as   
he could, Duo thrust toward the Wing gently until they were nearly touching - in fact, their   
cockpit doors were now adjacent to each other.  
  
Surprisingly, all Gundams had been designed to enable docking from one to another. Using what   
he knew about the system - it was rarely used - Duo docked on the Wing.  
  
With a hiss, his cockpit door swung open, and Duo entered the memorized key code to open the   
Wing Zero's cockpit into the key pad. Instantly the door opened.  
  
Duo stared for a moment, then felt a shudder shake him, starting with his boots up to the crown   
of his head. A feeling of sickness like when he had watched Heero set his own broken bone struck   
him.  
  
Heero was actually bleeding, and bleeding a lot. His right arm hung at a crazy angle, the whiteness   
of bone sticking out, and his legs were both bent impossibly. Blood trickled over his eyes from his   
forehead and down his hand from his broken arm. One hand was still wrapped in the controls for   
the left hand, which carried the beam cannon, but the grip was loose. At least his chest was still   
rising and falling in labored breathing.  
  
"Damn you, Heero," Duo muttered. "Damn you - " He dropped to his knees, hugging his stomach   
and struggling not to retch. Now was not the time to panic! Heero was still alive; he had to do   
something to make sure he stayed that way. But his mind refused to function, and all he could see   
was that image of Heero's broken body in the cockpit chair, next to one of Sister Helen dying in   
Duo's eight-year-old lap . . .  
  
A First Aid Kit. He needed a First Aid Kit. It was the first rational thought, and Duo clung to it as   
he heaved to his feet and fled to his Gundam, tearing the white box with a red cross on it out from   
under the viewscreen. Moments later he was next to Heero, grimacing at the broken bones. "Man,   
I thought watching *you* set a bone was bad," the God of Death muttered, then gently placed his   
fingers against the white edge sticking out of the skin and on the underside of the arm. "On the   
count of three," he told the unconcious boy. "One. . . two. . . Three!" Pressing on the pieces   
simultaniously, Duo snapped the bones together again, then shuddered and jerked his fingers   
away. "Ugh," he grumbled. Using a spare antenna, he formed a makeshift splint for the arm, then   
wrapped it carefully in gauze. He then repeated the procedure for both of Heero's legs, then   
cleaned his other wounds before binding them up, too.  
  
A keening sound suddenly sprang from the Deathscythe Hell's cockpit. Duo jumped up and   
hurried back, scanning the controls for threats. Bingo. A keep (30 Leos) was headed in the   
direction of the united Gundams. "Oh damn," growled the pilot. No time to rescue both Heero   
and the Wing Zero; all that he could do was pull the comatose pilot into Deathscythe.  
  
Leaving the Wing without destroying it was certainly not an option, and Duo searched the   
Gundam for anything useful before separating from it. He came up with the self-detonator, a   
'survival kit' including food sufficient for 3 days and a blanket, and a gun. Of course there was a   
gun. Duh. Shoving them all into the little remaining free space, Duo closed his cockpit door and  
gently laid Heero in his Gundam's seat, buckling him in. "Prepare for turbulence," Duo grinned,   
leaning over the controls.  
  
In a minute they were undocked and sailing away from the damaged Wing. With a sad sigh, Duo   
lifted the detonation device and flicked off the safety. "Forgive me for this, Heero," he whispered,   
then pressed the small red button.  
  
The places where the plates of Gundanium armor met lit up as the energy of the self-destruct   
device blossomed yellow, then it seemed that the Wing was disentigrating in a fireball of energy.   
The air compressed, throwing the Deathscythe forward, towards Earth. Duo watched in his   
viewscreens as the machine was utterly destroyed. "So long, Wing Zero."  
  
Deathscythe Hell was falling rapidly towards Earth now; Duo decided it was for the better, seeing   
as that was where he had planned to land, anyway. Heavy rumbling, the sort that made Duo's   
heart seem to hum in sympathy as if to a bass note in a heavy metal song, shook the Gundam. It   
could have been hours, but it was more likely minutes, until the huge black Gundam's viewscreens   
functioned again, revealing clear skies and nothing but desert and more desert.  
  
Duo stared for a moment, then smirked. "Better than ocean as far as the eye can see," he   
remarked off-handedly. But now the thing to do was land the damned thing.  
  
Autopilot was failing miserably; it rarely worked well on landing under the best of conditions.   
Duo flicked open the manual joystick operator and gripped it tightly, licking his lips. "Com'n, pal,   
com'n," he muttered loosely to the Gundam as he gently moved the control back and forth to   
stabilize the Deathscythe. Unfortuanately, neither the gentle manual control or the muttered  
encouragements sped up the slowing response system. The Deathscythe Hell was dying.  
  
Suddenly a red light flashed amoung the warnings that were still flickering. Duo spared it a   
glance; OUT OF FUEL. "Shit," he growled. That translated, basically, to two more minutes of   
control while the system burned what remained in the piping; after that, the Gundam would go   
into free-fall. Duo forced back panic and decided he would make the most of those two minutes   
as he brought his comrade-in-arms down faster than protocol called for. Despite his best efforts,   
though, they were still fifty feet in the air when the Gundam was drained. For a moment it seemed   
they hung in the air; then they plunged rapidly as the Deathscythe began to tip forward to land on   
its face. Duo grimaced. This was gonna really, really hurt. . .  
  
The feet of Deathscythe touched the ground first, then the rest of the Gundam struck the   
unforgiving sands heavily. Burning off the remaining momentum, the Gundam slid across the   
desert, gradually turning on its side, until it came to rest against a particularly large dune. The   
dust settled.  
  
Silence.  
  
* * *  
  
This is getting better and better! (fic writer celebrates happily) Aren't I good at leaving cliff   
hangers though? Aren't I? Admittedly, my action writing hasn't improved at all, but I hope to   
change that. I also hope you like it so far!  
  
* * * 


	4. Survival

Chapter 3 - Survival  
  
Warnings: Duo pain. I'm evil, forgive me. Um. . . Duo continues to be a potty mouth. ^_^ PG-13   
in terms of pain and profanity, now.  
  
* * *  
  
Somehow, having your legs tangled in a belt and supporting most of your weight on your   
shoulder, neck, and head doesn't feel right. With a groan, Duo came to in this uncomfortable   
position.  
  
It was comepletely dark for a few minutes while Duo struggled to free himself from the belt   
one-handed; his left hand simply refused to move. Finally, with a quiet whirr, the emergency lights   
clicked on, washing the cockpit in red light just in time to illuminate Duo's ungainly crash to the   
floor - well, the wall. Slowly the braided boy sat up and assesed the situation.  
  
Luckily, Heero had remained bluckled in, though he still hung limply. He seemed to have been   
untouched by the crash. Duo couldn't hold back the sigh of relief upon seeing that. "Thought for   
sure I'd killed ya," He grunted, standing.  
  
The shift in position, however, sent pain shooting up his left arm. Sucking in his breath sharply to   
keep from screaming, he looked down. An odd bluge stuck out, pushing the stained black   
material, and Duo grimaced as he guessed what it was. "Damn," he hissed, pressing his fingers   
against both pieces of the broken bone. "Hate to pull a Heero, but. . ." Duo clenched his teeth.   
"One. . . two. . . three!" he pressed down, the bones snapped into place, and Duo screamed   
bloody murder. The world darkened. . . taking huge gulps of air, Duo collapsed and remained   
sitting, struggling with nausea. How did Heero set his own bone without blinking? It hurt like   
f***ing HELL!  
  
After a few minutes of near-blackout and murderous thoughts involving the Leos that had put   
them in this position, Duo dragged himself to his feet, rubbing his temple to help relieve a   
throbbing headache he'd developed. Realizing it was sticky, he drew away his fingers to reveal   
blood. Duo groaned. The situation just kept looking better and better!  
  
Picking a long, thin rod, he carefully wrapped it against his left arm, an indrawn breath marking   
each time he touched a tender spot. Finally satisfied, he turned to Heero, who hung sideways off   
the cockpit chair. Gently he undid the buckles holding him in the seat and lowered him to floor.   
Heero's breathing had evened out, and for a moment his eyelids fluttered. Duo held his breath,   
catching his lower lip in his teeth and watching intently. But the eyes remained closed, the   
breathing slow and steady, and Heero Yuy didn't wake up. With a sigh crossed between relief and   
disappointment, Duo left him be. If Heero woke up, Duo would have to explain where they were   
and the absence of the Wing Zero, and he wasn't up for the biggest berating and beating of his life.   
But with Heero asleep, he couldn't help with things like . . . well, opening the door.  
  
Because the Deathscythe was resting on its side, reaching the door required some climbing.   
Avoiding using his left arm, Duo lifted himself painstakingly until he could just reach the keypad if   
he struggled. Punching in the code, the door hissed open, flooding the compartment with blinding   
light. The God of Death squeezed his eyes shut against it, then blinked rapidly as he adjusted.  
  
The landscape was blindingly bright. Dunes of sand were all that was visible, fading into the   
horizon where they met stark blue skies. The sun beat down relentlessly, making the heat as   
unbearable as the brightness. Duo just stared for a long moment, and the adrenaline he'd been   
running on until then seemed to drain out of his feet.  
  
"Daaaaaaaaaamn," he breathed, tipping over until he was leaning against the doorframe. "This is   
*really* uncool!" Duo allowed his legs to fold under him until he was sitting on his haunches,   
then, throwing a glance back at Heero, considered his options.  
  
First and foremost came making sure the Deathscythe, Heero, and himself didn't fall into the   
hands of OZ. The best way would be, of course, to just blow themselves up, but they had survived   
this far - he wasn't about to just give up and die now.  
  
On the other hand, the Deathscythe was pretty much totaled. Duo could easily have gone ahead   
and blown it up - but there was one important feature he wanted. Every Gundam had a unit that   
allowed tracking, but it was on a high frequency that was impossible for average signalers to find   
except by accident. Quatre and Trowa could use that to locate the two boys - but they wouldn't   
bother to look for it until he and Heero failed to radio in. Until Duo was sure Trowa and Quatre   
had found Heero and himself, he didn't want to destroy his precious partner. Maybe they could   
salvage him, anyway. It was worth a hope.  
  
Meanwhile, he and Heero would have to leave, though, in case an emergency required   
self-destruction. Examining the landscape led Duo to decide a camp about 3 or 4 dunes from the   
Gundam would be appropriate. Having a plan helped Duo focus, and with a self-assuring nod,   
braid-boy rose to his feet and retreated back into the cockpit to gather supplies.  
  
* * *  
  
140 miles away. . .  
  
"Lieutenant!" One of the uncommisioned officers stepped into the control room of the OZ base   
stiffly and saluted, recieving several salutes in reply. "Message from Aries Patrol in Sector 4-H!"  
  
One man with a commanding presence and mask covering the eyes and nose of his face turned   
and looked over his shoulder at the officer. "Oh? Relay the message."  
  
"He says something within visibility fell to the ground from the sky at 1143 hours, sir! It was   
mostly black, and did not appear natural."  
  
Now seeming more interested, the Lieutenant turned. "Not natural?"  
  
"He thinks it was manmade - either a piece of space junk or even. . ." the officer swallowed. "or   
even a Gundam, sir. He couldn't say which, and he only saw the last part of its descent."  
  
The Lieutenant rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "If it was a Gundam, we'll be under attack shortly.   
Increase the guard, but otherwise take no action. Being the aggressor will do us no good when it   
comes to a Gundam pilot."  
  
"Shouldn't we investigate, though?" the officer immediately cringed after asking, expecting a   
remprimand for questioning command.  
  
However, the Lieutenant didn't seem interested in berating him. "Perhaps. We'll send out a patrol   
within the next few days in the case of no Gundam attacks." The masked man smiled slightly.   
"Don't worry. We'll be ready."  
  
* * *  
  
Duo lifted Heero in his arms, his left arm screaming with pain as he did so. The boy had to fight to   
keep back hot tears from his colbalt eyes. "Boys . . . don't . . . cry," he gritted out, then examined   
the bundle in his arms that was Heero Yuy. Heero managed to look annoyed with the world even   
in his comatose oblivion. "You nut," Duo voiced his thoughts. "You must hate everything." With   
that, Duo climbed to the cockpit door and peered at the ground. It seemed so high now - it had   
appeared so much shorter a distance when he had taken the supplies to his chosen campsite,   
which was well-hidden from intruders of the general vicinity and as shaded from the sun as   
possible. Screwing his eyes shut and preparing for the worst, Duo took the leap, hugging Heero   
fiercely as though it would protect the unconcious boy even more.  
  
When Duo came to, he realized that he was - well, duh - on the ground, and Heero was sprawled   
across his stomach. With a grunt Duo pushed him off and sat up, waiting for the world to stop   
spinning. As if to add to his problems, it was beginning to hurt to breathe. It had to be a cracked   
rib. Damn. With a sigh of annoyance Duo stumbled to his feet and lifted Heero again, attempting   
without much success to carry him to the campsite. Duo ended up half-dragging the unconscious   
boy.  
  
After what might as well have been an eternity, he reached the small site he'd picked. The dune it   
was next to blocked the sun, making it signifigantly cooler, though Duo continued to sweat   
buckets. Gently laying Heero down on the blanket in Heero's survival kit, he sat as comfortably as   
possible and grabbed the small First Aid kit again. He leaned over the unconcious boy and   
performed a "general wellness" check - Duo was pretty sure that was what the medic in the   
Sweepers group had called it - and determined Heero had sustained no other signifigant injuries   
than two cracked ribs. The guy was incredible, Duo thought with disgust. It was hardly fair. What   
the hell had Dr. J *done* to Heero!?  
  
Himself, on the other hand . . . Duo definitely had four cracked ribs, and one was close to a   
fracture. He had broken several bones in both hands and his right foot, which helped explain why   
carrying Heero had been so hard, and of course there was the complex fracture in his upper left   
arm. Other than that, his most serious injuries were some deeper lacerations on his head and  
other parts of his body, and numerous cuts, scratches, bruises, and the like. Luckily, his braid had   
remained intact, but the blood was gonna be a pain in the ass to wash out. "Man, if those Leos   
ruined my hair, I'll just hafta kill OZ for that alone," he growled jokingly as he carefully bandaged   
himself up.  
  
* * *  
  
Halfway around the world. . .  
  
Yet again Quatre glanced over to the dormant laptop from where he was sprawled over the   
couch. Nothing. With a quiet sigh, the blonde tried to get back to his reading.  
  
He knew that Duo wasn't supposed to link them until 5:00 am, but Duo wasn't one to follow   
orders, and he was likely to call them early with the exciting details of the mission. The very fact   
that the laptop hadn't suddenly popped up with an image of Duo worried Quatre. It wasn't like   
Duo at all. Had both of them died? Were they having a harder time than expected and just still at   
work?  
  
"It'll work out."  
  
Quatre jerked his head up to see Trowa standing in the doorway with his arms folded. His face   
was its usual deadpan, but Quatre smiled. "Thanks, Trowa. But you'd think that Duo would have   
linked us by now . . ."  
  
Trowa's eyes darted to his watch, then back to Quatre. "It is unusual, but there's the possibility   
that Heero restrained Duo, or even that Duo has decided to follow directions."  
  
Quatre frowned over that, then nodded slowly. "I guess," he said slowly, then suddenly he looked   
up. "I think you just used up a month's worth of words, Trowa-san!"  
  
Trowa's eyes widened, his eyebrows arching delicately upwards, then he smiled a very tiny smile.   
"I'm going to go find myself a book to read. Duo will link up soon enough."  
  
* * *  
  
"Damn, I wish I could link up Trowa and Quatre," sighed Duo. He shifted haltingly on the sand,   
surveyed his surroundings, and once again looked down at Heero. "I wish you'd wake up."  
  
Only two hours in the sun, and Duo was ready to call it quits and find any way possible to escape   
the heat. It was really an effort to use the water supply sparingly, but he was afraid he'd already   
drunk too much. On the plus side, Heero couldn't consume anything since he was still unconcious.   
What a lovely day it was turning out to be.  
  
With a grunt, Duo shifted yet again. Damn, the sand was hot! He was tempted to stand, but it was   
so much effort . . . Nah, sitting was fine. He was able to see for miles in any direction anyway, and   
his Gundam was easily in range.  
  
After scanning the horizon and finding nothing for around the hundredth time, Duo sighed   
heavily, fingered his gun, shifted, and looked at Heero. Part of Duo was jealous, he realized -   
unable to feel the heat in unconsious oblivion, and free of pain or fatigue. The heat really sapped   
your strength. "Life's so unfair, Heero," Duo informed the comatose pilot. "You're made of  
something inhuman. I mean, you got rammed by a Leo and got away with a few broken bones.   
Me, I get hit by a single blast and get nearly as bad as you."  
  
Duo laughed quietly at himself; Heero probably couldn't hear him at all. "You know what, if   
anyone survives this war, it's gonna be you. Are ya gonna know what to do with yourself when   
the war is over? All you've ever done is train to fight." Duo grinned lopsidedly. "If this war ever   
ends, man, I'm gonna find myself a pretty girl and never work again. Yeah, right.  
  
"I hope you get someone pretty too, Heero. Pretty and nice, cuz Relena . . . eh, you could   
definitely do better." Duo's eyes drooped lazily; it was hard to stay awake in such heat. Once   
again he scanned the horizon, and once again he found nothing interesting. "Ah, we'll probably   
just both sit here until we die or Trowa and Quatre find us. Wouldn't that be great? Being found,  
I mean. We can't die yet; we gotta destroy OZ."  
  
The one-sided conversation was becoming boring. Duo yawned and smacked his lips, wishing he   
could drink more water, but knowing that would be a bad idea. Man, he wanted to sleep . . . NO!   
He couldn't sleep, he had to make sure OZ didn't show up out of the blue. Duo clutched the   
detonator again, purposely moving his left arm to make himself wake up. Pain struck him  
heavily, shocking him back to wakefulness, but bringing waves of nausea with it. Duo struggled   
with it for a moment, but the fight, the rough landing, and the sun had all taken their toll, and Duo   
practically leapt to his knees to retch. He dry-heaved for nearly half a minute after emptying the   
contents of his stomach, then slumped exhaustedly. "Shit." The aftertaste of throwing up stung his   
mouth, and he wished for water all the more, but he forced the thoughts away. He had no idea   
how long he'd be spending in the desert, and the water had to last.  
  
Duo attempted to sit up, but even moving his arm was like catching the flu, and breathing hurt   
like hell as his cracked ribs protested. Flopping to his stomach, Duo searched the horizon a final   
time in a semblance of keeping watch, then succumbed to the exhaustion washing over him and   
fell into fitful sleep.  
  
* * *  
  
  
A shorter chapter then usual, I believe, and I apologize for waxing philosophical, as Duo goes. I   
needed something to fill out the chapter, as it's more or less a set-up for the next few chapters!  
  
By now I have disappointed you yaoi fans. Yes, Duo wants to find a 'pretty girl'. However, I have   
a side story planned that more or less investigates a relationship between Heero and Duo that is   
still more than friendship. You'll see, when I get there. ::evil grin:: You'll have to wait! ^_^  
* * * 


	5. Discovered

Chapter 4 - Discovered  
  
Warnings: Don't interpret this as yaoi. Please. Duo is still a potty mouth. So is Quatre (gasp!). A   
semblance of tension for a little while. PG, I think.  
  
* * *  
  
Duo abruptly jerked awake with a shiver, looking around frantically. Weren't there OZ troops   
coming from everywhere. . .?  
  
A dream. It had been a dream. With a relieved sigh, Duo slumped into the sand, then shivered   
again.  
  
Hey. Weren't deserts supposed to be hot?  
  
Shaking his head heavily, Duo struggled into a crosslegged position and looked around. When   
had it gotten dark? Had he slept that long? Vaugely he recalled learning that deserts were cold at   
night because neither the air nor the sand could retain the warmth that came from the sun each   
day, resulting in extreme temperature swings. Shoot, Duo thought. I probably slept through  
the best part of the day - the sunset. He chuckled a little and rubbed his arms before wincing from   
pain and hunching over, trying to keep from throwing up what little water was in his system. If   
there was any. Man, it was cold! At least he had warm clothes on.  
  
Suddenly Duo thought of Heero, wearing that tanktop, and he snapped his head over to look -   
and did a double take. Heero wasn't awake yet, but regardlessly, he was shivering. The Perfect   
Soldier was shivering. Duo's eyes widened at that, then he crawled over to cover the boy up.   
Couldn't have him dying of hypothermia or something like that. A shiver rocked Duo again  
as he quaked from his feet to his neck, and he abruptly realized that even in his warm clothes, he   
would freeze too. Great. One blanket and two frozen boys.  
  
After covering Heero with the blanket, Duo crawled in next to him and found himself edging   
closer and closer to the unconsious boy next to him, seeking more warmth. For some reason he   
had odd thoughts about those 'blanket scenario' stories he'd read on the net before. Ick. Duo   
pushed away.  
  
However, there was no denying that it was colder when you didn't have a warm body right next to   
you. Giving in to primal instincts and deciding that, after all, nobody would know, Duo pressed   
himself to Heero, soaking in the heat, and felt Heero stop shivering under his touch. Duo smiled   
slightly. It felt good to know that he could actually help the Perfect Soldier with something.   
Slowly his eyelids drooped. Maybe it'd be okay if he just slept for a little while longer. . .  
  
Something began humming. Duo's eyes sprang open and his ears perked up, trying to identify the   
sound. It wasn't a Gundam . . . sounded like an Aries. Cursing under his breath, Duo crawled out   
of the covers and stumbled to his feet, kicking up sand as he gripped the detonator and half-ran,   
half-fell towards the Deathscythe Hell.  
* * *  
  
Quatre glanced at his watch. "It's 5:30 am, Trowa. I'm worried. Should we try to find them?"  
  
Trowa seemed to weigh the odds, then nodded. "If either one of their Gundams are still intact,   
we'll be able to find them."  
  
Quatre smiled slightly, but it was a worried smile. "I hope they're still alive," he murmured before   
typing in the command to begin the tracking system.  
  
* * *  
  
"This is Aries 204," announced the pilot of the mobile doll. "I've located something   
out-of-the-ordinary in Sector 4-H. Please stand by; I'm going in to check it out."  
  
"10-4, Aries 204."  
  
* * *  
  
Duo searched the darkened sky and saw a darker spot than the rest. It began to circle, and Duo   
swore again, this time more profusely. It had to be the Aries, and it had to have seen his Gundam!   
Luckily, it was coming down slowly, as if to verify. Hopefully it would come within range of the   
explosion. Duo prayed hoarsely and flipped the safety off the detonator as he wondered whether   
or not this would be the last five minutes of his life. It probably would be; he had to be well in   
range of the explosion for the remote detonator to operate. "Forgive me Father, I have sinned so   
much . . . "  
  
* * *  
  
Quatre actually swore at the laptop when it took longer than he expected for it to work. "Damn   
you, load up!"  
  
Trowa's eyebrow arched up. "Quatre?"  
  
Quatre ducked his head and sighed. "Sorry. I'm just really uptight . . . what if they're dead?"  
  
"They'll be fine. Heero's survived a Gundam explosion; not much'll kill him. And Duo's detonator   
never even works."   
  
That elicited a small chuckle from Quatre. "I hope it failed again, because we'll need the tracker to   
find them."  
  
* * *  
  
"And finally, Lord, PLEASE let my detonator work!" Duo added at the end of his prayer, and   
hoped God wouldn't count it as suicide, since that was a really major sin. Well, so much for   
finding that pretty girl. Duo hoped Heero woke up at the explosion and stayed alive. Poor Quatre   
would be devastated if both of them died.  
  
The Aries continued to practically float down towards the Deathscythe on silent wings and   
thrusters that hummed the way all thrusters did. Duo realized he was shaking a little and   
commanded himself to stop. He was the God of Death! He couldn't be afraid of dying. It was   
probably somewhere in the rulebooks of the supernatural.  
  
Grimly he watched the Aries circle down towards his Gundam. Not too much farther to go. . .  
  
* * *  
  
"This is Aries 204. I've almost certainly got a Gundam here. Flying in to verify ID number."  
  
"Nice work. Keep it up, 204."  
  
* * *  
  
"I've only got one signal coming in," Quatre said. "It looks like the Deathscythe's signature."   
Quatre turned and looked up at Trowa, who was once again leaning over his shoulder. "You think   
Heero self-destructed again?"  
  
Trowa nodded. "It's the logical explaination. But I doubt he's dead for two reasons. First, Heero   
doesn't die for practically *anything*." Trowa actually smirked ever-so-slightly. "Secondly, Duo   
wouldn't let Heero die while he's within earshot."  
  
"True, true," Quatre agreed. Then his eyes widened at the next part. "The Gundam is somewhere   
in the Sahara desert!?"  
  
* * *  
  
"The Gundam appears to be deserted," the Aries announced. "I'm going to land and give it a   
personal examination."  
  
The radio relay director looked over to the sergant in the room, who gave a curt nod. "Wait'll we   
tell the Lieutenant about this! Proceed, 204."  
  
* * *  
  
Trowa had moved to the other side of the room, pulling out paper maps to get a closer look at the   
landscape as Quatre continued to call out better and better trackings. "Southern part of Egypt!   
West of the Nile!" Quatre informed him.  
  
Trowa shuffled the maps and located with ease the one showing the southwestern part of Egypt.   
"Quatre, they're probably within miles of an OZ base. That area is an OZ stronghold!"  
  
* * *  
  
The Aries was landing, Duo realized. Was this great luck or what!? There was no way they'd get   
clear of the explosion in time now.  
  
"Dead MS walkin'," Duo muttered, lifting the detonator. He swallowed nervously, then smirked   
as he determined that he was definitely *not* going to die scared. "Ore wa Shinigami," he   
whispered, then depressed the trigger of the detonator. "Goodbye, Heero. Stay alive for . . . well,   
everyone."  
  
* * *  
  
The Aries pilot abruptly stopped his decent and peered at the Gundam. "This is Aries 204. The   
Gundam is showing activity."  
  
The radio director tensed. "What sort of activity?"  
  
"It seems to be lighting up . . . from the inside. . ."  
  
The sergant jumped to his feet. "WHAT!?!" Running, or rather stumbling, forward, he yanked the   
radio headphones off of the radio director. "GET OUT OF THERE! I repeat, GET OUT OF   
THERE!" the sergant screamed. "Unless you want to witness a Gundam destruction - along with   
your own!"  
  
"Huh? Um, rodger that, thrusters full!" replied the Aries, but it was too late for him. The Gundam   
exploded into brillant yellow flames, seeming to disentigrate in the blast as it flew to pieces. The   
Aries was engulfed.  
  
"Aries 204, come in! Aries 204!" the sergant gasped. But there was no response except static.   
"We lost him," he sighed, pulling the headphones off. "Tell the Lieutenant we definitely have at   
least one Gundam in the vicinity - and at least one pilot."  
  
* * *  
  
"The signal . . . it's . . . it's gone!" Quatre stared at the screen, still showing a large vicinity of   
southern Egypt. "We lost it, and there's still a lot of ground to cover." Quatre's shoulders   
slumped, and depression settled like a lump of stone in the bottom of his stomach. "Duo . . .   
Heero . . ."  
  
"Let's keep trying. Their Gundams are gone, but we don't know about the pilots themselves,"   
Trowa deadpanned. "We can't let them fall into OZ hands, if they're indeed alive."  
  
Quatre nodded dumbly. "R-right," he murmured. "I hope they're okay."  
* * *  
  
And that's yet another chapter! Yay! Now, *this* one was REALLY short! Lotsa action, though .   
. . hope you're enjoying the story!  
  
* * * 


	6. Capture

Chapter 5 - Capture  
  
Warnings: LOTS of Duo pain, a little Duo torture. I am cruel. Potty mouths. OOCness, in the   
middle. Sorry. And predictability (com'n, look at the title).  
  
* * *  
  
The Lieutenant studied the report Sergant Harrings had just put in his hand. "Hmmmm," he   
muttered. "Gundam self-detonation? I wonder . . . Sergant Harrings, did the Aries ever identify   
the ID of the Gundam?"  
  
The sergant shifted on his feet. "No, sir, Aries 204 never described its appearance beyond its   
being battered-looking."  
  
"Really." Slowly the Lieutenant stood. "Well, then, send out a keep to examine the wreakage,   
along with two Aries to patrol the sky for attack while searching the area. I'll be coming along."  
  
"I presume we'll be searching for the pilot of the Aries?" Harrings saluted.  
  
"No. . ." the Lieutenant shook his head. "The pilot of the Gundam. They seem to survive the   
craziest things, don't you think?"  
  
* * *  
  
Hell was indeed hot, but it was awfully bright, too. Duo didn't think Hell was supposed to be   
bright, though. It was also stuffy, but the only reason he could tell was because he could breathe,   
and that probably wasn't a requirment in the afterlife, either.   
  
Which could mean only one thing. He was still alive.  
  
This was what? His second brush with death in about the last 24 hours? Duo wanted to tell the   
world that he must have Heero's sort of luck to be alive, but his throat was so dry he couldn't even   
croak.   
  
With water on his mind, Duo struggled to stand so he could get back to Heero, the campsite, and   
most importantly, drinkable liquid. However, only one attempt to rise, and Duo decided that at   
least for now, right here was just fine. After all, staying here didn't require the impossible - like   
moving. Besides, he couldn't feel enough of himself to do much. Daring only to use his neck,  
Duo tried to get an idea of where he was.  
  
It was definitely still the desert, not that Duo had expected any different. He was pinned under   
something really big - it looked like a piece of his Gundam. Since his mouth was partially covered,   
it was stuffy to try and breathe through it. Duo was on his back, and he could see that his braid   
had, once again, survived along with him. Duo smiled slightly.  
  
Feeling slowly returned to areas below his neck, and along with it came agonizing pain. Duo   
discovered that he could indeed raise his voice above a croak as long as he had motivation, since   
he managed to scream for quite some time. Once he finally had it out of his system, he tried to   
move again, and found it much easier - and much more painful - to do so.   
  
He couldn't budge the huge piece of Gundanium, so he tried to wiggle out from underneath it.   
The sand shifted, allowing him to push away from the metal plate. Every part of him screeched in   
agony at the pain of moving, but Duo commanded them to shut up silently and kept going. He   
wasn't about to give up! He couldn't!  
  
He was out from under the plate to his hips now, and Duo sat up slowly, gasping, to try and see   
what the hell was wrong with him.  
  
If his left arm had looked bad with a complex fracture, it was mangled now. Blood ran over his   
hand from the crushed wrist, and the broken bone in the upper arm was once again snapped out of   
place. His favorite black shirt was torn nearly to shreds, red-tinged with blood from shrapnel   
wounds on his chest and back. Amazingly, he had gotten away with only a severe laceration down   
his upper right arm. "Don't even wanna see my legs," he croaked out, smirking slightly. Even his   
face hurt, and rubbing it caused Duo to think it was mildly burned.  
  
As Duo continued to wiggle out from under the Gundanium, he tried to remember what had   
happened. He recalled watching the beginnings of the explosion, then being pelted by shrapnel just   
before being tossed from where he stood like a rag doll by the blast of compressed air.   
Remembering that the Aries had been destroyed too was encouraging, luckily, because after that  
he remembered landing on his left wrist, striking the sands heavily with the rest of his body, and   
rolling before his right leg snagged on a settled piece of the Gundanium armor. Then he recalled   
something falling out of the sky on his body before blacking out. It wasn't a very pleasant thing to   
remember. With a shiver, Duo set his mind back to the task on hand before his body began to   
relive the pain, too.  
  
Finally Duo managed to free his legs completely from the plate, and he leaned back, breathing   
hard. "Damned . . . Aries . . . making me . . . self-destruct . . . ," he grunted. Dammit, he HURT!   
"Least I'm not dead," he smirked, imagining the cooked Aries pilot. "Dumbass." Finally he got the   
courage to check his legs.  
  
The only thing that was really serious-looking was his hip and the dislocated kneecap on his right   
leg. His hip was literally slashed; a long diagonal stripe from his lower ribs to just below his   
buttocks was bleeding sluggishly. His knee would just need to be snapped back into place, and the   
cuts, bruises, and other wounds could wait. Duo sucked in his breath to stop tears again. He did   
NOT want to set another bone! In fact, the idea of dealing with the pain of moving back to the   
camp made him want to faint.   
  
This was ridiculous. He didn't have a hope of living unless he went back to where Heero was.  
  
Heero. Another reason to get back to camp. With a sigh of frustration and resignation, Duo   
forced himself to roll onto his stomach, clenching his teeth to hold in the cries. Keeping his teeth   
set, he pushed to his knees. His right knee gave out, and he collapsed back into the sand. "F***,"   
he gritted out. The word hardly covered the pain he was feeling. Once again Duo pushed to his   
knees, and before he could fall again, he crawled haltingly across the desert to where he hoped   
Heero was, the litany of "Boys don't cry" barely keeping him from screaming or crying in pain.  
  
* * *  
  
"Here's some sattelite pictures of southwestern Egypt last night when we lost the signal," Trowa   
laid out the photos in front of Quatre, who yawned and eyed them worriedly.  
  
While Trowa appeared rested despite little sleep, Quatre struggled to keep his eyes open and dark   
circles marred the skin under his eyes. It had been a bad night, and now it was about 12:30 pm.   
He and Trowa had debated ways of investigating the disappearing signal and finding their   
partners, and settled on hacking into the sattelite system. Quatre had spent the early morning   
getting as far as he could legally - after all, the Winner family had plenty of influence - and Trowa   
had continued the process by hacking while Quatre had examined maps of the area. Now Quatre   
was exhausted, but Trowa . . . Trowa was made of something akin to what Heero was made of,   
because both of them could go for about a week without sleep, it seemed.  
  
Something in the third sattelite photo caught Quatre's eye. "Is that an explosion? It looks like it."  
  
Trowa nodded. "That's what I thought. Keep going; the pictures continue into about an hour   
ago."  
  
Quatre whiffled through the pictures, looking for anything interesting, but he didn't see anything   
until the last photo. "A . . . a keep, maybe," he muttered. "Headed towards the location of the   
explosion. Trowa, we've got the Deathscythe on our hands for sure. But if this *is* a keep . . . "   
He looked up at Trowa with a pale face, communicating silently.  
  
Trowa nodded. "Yeah. Let's get in our Gundams. We've got a lot of flying to do."  
  
* * *  
  
Heero was still laying under the blanket, happy and peaceful, Duo noted shakily. Duo wasn't   
sweating anymore, and he thought that somewhere he had heard that was a bad sign, but he   
couldn't muster the strength to care. He had guzzled the water as soon as he got back to camp,   
and now all of his energy was devoted to wrapping his middle with gauze. "J-jeez, Heero, you  
slept th-through a g-goddamn Gundam e-ex-explosion," Duo stammered out between chattering   
teeth. He was going into shock, but he wouldn't succumb to it; Duo couldn't afford to, now.   
"Wh-what the hell?!"   
  
Of course, the unconscious boy didn't reply, and Duo grunted as he managed to cut and tie the   
white gauze in place. His left arm and wrist were already wrapped, and he'd succeeded in cleaning   
the slash on his hip and upper right arm *with* antiseptic,  
and *without* screaming. Antiseptic always did sting badly. Maybe someone would come up with   
a way to stop it from hurting so much.  
  
It was nothing short of a miracle that no more bones had broken. If any more had, Duo wasn't   
sure he would've gotten here. Now that everything was snapped back to where they belonged,   
Duo didn't look all that bad anymore. How he felt was another matter entirely. Heero sure was   
lucky; being knocked out looked very attractive.  
  
Still breathing shakily, Duo flopped backwards onto the sand and shivered despite the heat. He   
was becoming numb. Now would be a very, VERY bad time to fall asleep, Duo thought. First, he   
had to look for OZ - by now they were sure to be looking for *him*. Secondly, if he fell asleep,   
he didn't trust himself to ever wake up, and Duo had no intention of dying from a lack of will.   
With real effort Duo again sat, ignoring his sore, screaming muscles.  
  
Living was beginning to take a lot more willpower than it ever had before.  
  
* * *  
  
The keep of Leos was approaching the explosion site quickly, the Lieutenant noted with pleasure.   
He kept finding his mind was wandering to the identity of the pilot of the Gundam that had   
apparently been self-destructed last night. Could it be that . . . that it was indeed the boy Heero   
Yuy, Gundam pilot number zero-one? It would be a pleasant surprise if it were so. If the last time  
he had self-destructed was any indication, he was probably still alive, too. He had a lot to ask the   
pilot if that was the case. Unfortunately, there were so many 'ifs' . . .  
  
"Lieutenant, we'll be arriving at the explosion site in about five minutes," announced one of the   
Aries pilots over the vid-comm. "Orders to dispatch?"  
  
"Yes," nodded the Lieutenant. "You and Aries 518 stay about a mile up and make sure no other   
Gundams show up. Ten Leo pilots will remain in their mobile suits and patrol. The rest will land   
and travel on foot to look for the Gundam pilot. Please relay the orders."  
  
"Yes, sir!" replied the pilot, and his image disappeared as the vid-comm link was closed.  
  
The Lieutenant sat back and settled comfortably into the seat of his own Gundam, the Tallgeese,   
and continued to follow his troops into the site.  
  
* * *  
  
Humming, lots of humming, was coming from the northeast. Duo grimaced and sat up to scan the   
horizon. No, now was such a bad time. "Don't let OZ show up now," he muttered. The numbness   
was wearing off, but now sharp stabs of pain seemed to strike various parts of his body randomly.   
He wasn't sure if it was shock or just nerves, though. At least everything wasn't hurting at once.  
  
Heero still wasn't awake, and Duo was becoming frustrated. He tried shaking Heero again, but   
still there was no reaction. Duo had slapped, pinched, punched, and even kicked the Wing pilot,   
but he had only succeeded in hurting himself while not even a bruise showed on Heero. "Dammit,   
Heero," Duo growled, leaning his mouth next to the pilot's ear, "WAKE UP! OZ is COMING!!!"  
  
No response. Duo sighed, sat back up again with a wince, and grumbled under his breath about   
the absolute inhumanity of Heero Yuy. Slowly he looked back across the northeast horizon.  
  
There they were. It looked like a keep of Leos, along with a couple of Aries. "Woah, nice   
reception party," he muttered with a laugh. If they didn't get out of their Leos he didn't have a   
chance. Which meant there was only one thing he could do. With trembling fingers, Duo grabbed   
the gun laying next to Heero and gripped it tightly, feeling the rubber grip under his numb, cut   
hand. He was going cold all over again, but now Duo was sure it was nerves and not shock. What   
he was about to do would be enough to fray anyone's nerves.  
  
The humming was getting louder. Duo could make out individual Leos easily now. But all they   
would find was two dead bodies. Yeah. "Sorry to do this to ya, Heero, without waking you up so   
you'd know," he muttered, once again changing his grip on the gun. Slowly, as though moving   
through water, Duo pushed the gun's muzzle to Heero's temple. "But . . . but at least we won't  
be alive for OZ, right?"   
  
The keep was approaching fast. Duo tightened his grip on the gun, and pulled back the trigger a   
bit. Why was it so hard to move it? Why couldn't he just pull the trigger? It would save them both   
a lot of misery and potential security leaks if he could just kill both Heero and himself. Gritting his   
teeth, squeezing his eyes shut, Duo tried again. Everything logical said he should kill them, *had*   
to.  
  
He couldn't do it. He couldn't kill Heero. Gasping, Duo let the gun slip from his fingers and   
slumped forward, then clapped his arms around himself and curled into a ball. He shaking like a   
leaf.  
  
Now, if everything hadn't been ridiculous enough before, *this* was crazy. The God of Death,   
curled into a ball in the middle of the desert, waiting for OZ to come and take him alive?! As   
Duo's mind once again seemed to run in its natural order, he stopped shaking and grabbed the gun   
from the sand. Maybe he had to go down, but he was gonna go down fighting.  
  
* * *  
  
"All right, men," Sergant Gratius announced to the twenty soldiers in his command, "We're going   
to be landing and searching on foot for the Gundam pilot! Orders are to bring him in alive,   
assuming he is found alive. Emphasis on *alive*, or you'll be the one facing the Lieutenant's   
wrath!  
  
"Here's the game plan: split up in pairs and cover all the ground you can, then report back to the   
landing site in 30 minutes. Is that clear?"  
  
"Yes, sir!" came the chorus of replies, and the search for the Gundam pilot was underway.  
  
* * *  
  
"Man, I was losin' it," Duo grunted as he watched about twenty Leos land 300 meters away. With   
one gun in his right hand and another tucked in the back of his belt, Duo was feeling normal   
again. He could even ignore the pain from most of his wounds, as long as he wasn't moving too   
much. Here, hidden behind a huge dune, Duo probably had the best vantage point, and he didn't   
have to twitch a muscle.  
  
Abruptly Duo tensed. Waaaaiit a minute . . . the pilots were getting out of their mobile suits? He   
had hoped they would, but the chances of it actually happening . . . "The Shinigami must be   
smiling at these pilots today," Duo smirked.  
  
They were beginning to spread out, obviously to cover more ground. All the better. He only had   
so many bullets.  
  
* * *  
  
Gratius looked around, holding his gun up and ready to shoot, or at least point it, at the slightest   
provocation. His partner was a private under his own command. "Be careful," he advised. "If the   
  
pilot is alive, he's probably wounded, but we don't know how dangerous he is, still."  
  
"Of course, sir," agreed the private. "But what if he escaped the blast and is okay? What if he's   
trying to attack just n-" he was cut off when abruptly the back of his head exploded in a cloud of   
blood and brains. Gratius jumped back in horror, then looked up to see the cause.  
  
A young person was standing on the dune in front of him, smirking widely. His face was red from   
too much sun, and his shirt was shredded along with bandages up and down his left arm.   
However, the thing Gratius noticed most was the .45 magnum in his hand - an old model, but still   
very deadly. "I suggest, sir, that you lay down and don't move," directed the boy in English. His   
voice was a little deep for how old he looked to be. "But first, put that gun, and the one tucked   
behind your pants, on the ground."  
  
Astonished, Gratius did as he was told. He heard scuffling next to him as the boy scrambled down   
from the dune and grabbed Gratius' standard-issue .38 caliber. The other gun he emptied of   
bullets, then it sounded like he was pouring sand into it, making it useless.   
  
"All right," the boy said, sounding satisfied. "You're going to stand, now, with your hands on your   
head. You're my . . . bargining chip, shall we say."  
  
Gratius once again did as he was told, and he quickly felt the muzzle of a gun pressed to his back.   
"Walk, please. I'm going to ask you to be a good captive, since I know more than just how to use   
a gun." A threat Gratius wasn't clear on hung in those words, and he decided that he'd be better   
off not knowing what the boy meant. He walked.  
* * *  
  
Duo nearly sighed with relief when the apparent sergant didn't try anything funny. He *did* know   
how to fistfight, and was good at some basic Ikiedo moves, but he was sure that in his current   
state he would lose to a full-grown man like this one.  
  
But now that it was clear the soldier was subdued, Duo felt thrilled. All he needed was a Leo,   
then he could pick up Heero and fly someplace safe after contacting Quatre and Trowa. They   
were nearly home-free! Smiling, maybe even smirking a little, Duo directed the sergant towards a   
Leo and kept going.  
  
"HALT!"  
  
Duo snapped his head towards where the voice was coming from, grabbing the sergant's neck and   
dragging him around to block any bullets. All he saw was two men, one of them pointing his gun   
at them. "I'm not stopping!" Duo shouted back. "If you shoot, you'll only hit your sergant! I   
wouldn't advise that!"  
  
"I wouldn't be so sure," came a quiet reply.   
  
Duo visibly started, then leapt back, pulling his .45 out and pointing it at the speaker with his left   
hand. Pain struck with a vengance, and Duo winced but backed off, forcing the sergant to join   
him. "Who the hell are you?"  
  
"First-class Sergant Harrings," replied the man calmly. Of course, some of the calm might have   
resulted from having a .38 caliber in his hand. "You are just about surrounded, young man. You'd   
best let your captive go and come with us, or I'll cause you a lot more pain then that crushed   
wrist."  
  
Duo glanced at his wrist quickly, then at the others appearing around him. Damn! The plan had   
completely backfired. "I'm not just giving up," he whispered. Then he added more loudly, "Get the   
hell away and put your guns down, or I'll kill this fellow!"  
  
Sergant Harrings just looked at Duo for a moment, his piercing blue eyes making Duo want to   
panic. He barely held his cool as Harrings lifted the gun, pulled the trigger - and Duo found his   
front covered with blood. Not his own blood - the blood of his captive. The sergant was dead in   
his arms. Duo looked up at Harrings, who serenely explained, "Now you don't have a bargaining   
chip. Don't try any heroics, please, and put all three of your guns down."  
  
The Shinigami pilot dropped the dead sergant and searched his mind quickly for what to do. Just   
getting captured wasn't an option! Maybe he could do something to force this Sergant Harrings to   
shoot him, or something -   
  
"Oh, by the way," added Harrings casually, "I believe we've found your friend. Quite unconscious.   
He's over there, and we'll be happy to kill him unless you kindly cooperate."  
Duo lifted his eyes to where Harrings had nodded, and saw that they did indeed have Heero with   
them, cuffed securely. Duo's insides scrunched up into a ball, then he let the two guns fall from his   
hands, and pulled the one in his belt out and dropped it as well. "Happy?!" he demanded, lifting   
his hands.  
  
"Quite," smiled Harrings. "Take him in." Suddenly Duo was grabbed from behind and roughly   
tossed to his face while someone yanked his arms behind him and cuffed his wrists together,   
causing him blinding pain. When his vision cleared he was being dragged to a huge mobile suit,   
one Duo hadn't seen before . . .   
  
Duo gasped. It was none other than the Tallgeese. "Bu-but that's Zechs' Gundam!" Duo wheezed   
before he was thrown to the dunes facefirst again. Spitting out grit and sand, Duo got his knees   
underneath himself and sat up to find himself at the feet of none other than Lieutenant Zechs   
Marquiese.  
  
Zechs looked somewhat disappointed, and somewhat surprised. "Well. I wasn't expecting a girl."  
  
Duo had the sudden urge to tear Zechs to shreds. "I'm not a girl," he snapped, and immediately   
wished he could take it back. If it was that easy to get information from him, Operation Meteor   
*was* in trouble.  
  
Zechs lifted his chin a bit, then squatted down to meet Duo's eyes before eying him up and down.   
"So you aren't," he agreed. "Forgive me.  
  
"It seems you are the pilot of the Gundam that self-destructed last night. With this in mind, I also   
see you have the pilot of the Wing Zero here as well. I am aware that you two are responsible for   
the destruction of the Yukusho base, and I want to speak with you about that, among other   
things.  
  
"For the time being, I have called for a transport to take you and your fellow pilot back to an OZ   
fortress about 140 miles from here. I hope you are willing to talk by this time tomorrow, or I   
cannot guarantee that questioning will go easy on you, even in your wounded state." Zechs stood   
up again. "Make sure he has water and some food before the transport arrives," he directed  
Harrings, then he looked back down at Duo. "I have to admit I'm impressed. You seem to have   
managed to survive not only a crash, but this desert for 36 hours, and a detonation." He turned to   
leave, and Duo was dragged to his feet and marched to a Leo to wait for the transport.  
  
"Dammit," Duo growled. "DAMMIT!" He kicked the sand, then huffed and slid to a sitting   
position.  
  
Captured. It *was* gonna suck when Heero woke up now.  
  
* * *  
  
Lots of Duo torture, but don't say I didn't warn you. Only a couple more chapters to go! Yay!!!  
* * * 


	7. Preparations

Chapter 6 - Preparations  
  
Warnings: bad words, Duo pain/torture. PG/PG-13, maybe?  
  
* * *  
  
A few minutes later, Harrings approached Duo with a canteen of water. "Drink up," he directed,   
tossing the canteen to the ground in front of the hostage.  
  
Duo glared daggers at Harrings. "I'm cuffed, remember?"  
  
Sighing, Harrings produced a gun. "Don't move while I recuff you." Duo complied, figuring that   
he didn't need to add a gun wound to his considerable list of injuries, and soon his hands were   
cuffed in front of him, instead. "Now drink before the Lieutenant returns."  
  
//Don't need to tell me twice,// Duo thought, lifting the canteen to parched lips. Before he took a   
swig, though, it occured to him that it was probably drugged. //Oh, hell.// Duo drained the   
canteen. //What difference does it make if I go to the facility awake or asleep? It's not likely they'll   
be giving me a window seat so I can see where we're going.// "There, happy?" he asked for the   
second time that day.  
  
Harrings rolled his eyes and picked up the empty canteen. "You act - even look - like such a child,   
it is impossible for you to be of any consequence to OZ," he hissed, throwing Duo a disgusted   
glance. "How pathetic."  
  
Duo smiled faintly. "I think I'll take that as a compliment." Years on the street had taught him   
innocent looks made people a little looser with the change in their wallets. It also made people   
less likely to believe you were the one stealing their apples.  
  
Already the drugs were taking effect; Duo became less aware of the dully thudding pain of the   
re-set bone in his arm and the gash across his hip, and his vision began to darken. Purposely   
relaxing, Duo succumbed to the pleasantly heavy sensation he felt and fell asleep.  
  
* * *  
  
Harrings inwardly breathed a sigh of relief when the pilot slumped over and began to snore   
soundly. He had the feeling the boy'd be a huge nuisance. Cursing his luck of becoming the   
second-in-command on the Gundam expedition, he lifted the long-haired pilot in his arms and   
surveyed the progress on the salvage operation.  
  
"Sir!" one of the young, idealistic privates ran up and saluted Harrings. "Preliminary   
determinations on the debris have been made, sir!"  
  
Harrings sighed faintly, feeling a headache coming on. Today would be a long day. "Go on,   
Private."  
"Prelimary studies reveal a strong possibility the Gundam that self-destructed was Gundam 02, sir.   
The Aries that performed the . . ."  
  
Harrings stopped listening at the words 'Gundam 02.' //THAT Gundam?? This boy is the pilot of   
. . . Gundam 02?// Glancing at the slightly-troubled, but otherwise innocent face of the   
15-year-old in his arms, he began to feel a little flame of hatred rising in his heart.  
  
Gundam 02 had killed his brother.  
  
* * *  
  
Several hours later . . .  
  
* * *  
  
Duo groaned and sat up - and immediately regretted the effort as his thin frame reminded him of   
the numerous injuries he'd sustained. Groaning again, he flopped back on the floor and tried to   
ignore the throbbing of his wounds. He was more than a little suprised to find the huge, bleeding   
gash across his hip had been dressed and his complex fracture bound tightly, if not casted.   
//Guess they do hafta keep me alive,// he thought wryly.  
  
//Damn . . . where am I?//  
  
The room was lit by a single lamp hanging in the middle of the room, but was otherwise dark. It   
seemed to be made of classic plaster and tile, like a classroom. Duo glared at the wall. He was   
willing to bet they hadn't picked up on the mini-detonators in the heel of his boots - Duo was   
proud of the assortment of break-and-enter materials he could hide on his person - so it would be   
a good chance he could blow out the wall and take off.  
  
Haha. Duo rolled his eyes. Not even OZ was that stupid. Reinforced steel probably hid behind   
the paint job. With a snort his lifted his head enough to turn it and look at the door.  
  
Not even a LOCK!? Duo dropped his head back to the floor heavily. So much for escape now.   
Besides, at the moment he didn't even have a clue as to Heero's location, so it probably would   
have been futile to attempt to locate him. Duo imagined accidentally walking into the sleeping   
quarters of a keep of OZ soldiers and shuddered. Yuck.  
  
The door slid open, startling Duo, who scrambled to his feet, ignoring his injuries for the moment   
even as they screamed in protest. Stumbling before regaining his balance, he scowled at the   
incoming OZ soldiers.  
  
"On your feet already?" asked a mildly mocking Harrings, stepping in behind a beefy man. "I'm a   
little suprised." Duo watched longingly as the door shut behind the sergant, but running out that   
door, unarmed and injured, would have done absolutely no good. First he needed a gun. Then,   
he needed Heero, Spandex Superboy. After that, Duo could accomplish anything at all.  
Duo shifted his gaze to the large soldier with Harrings and winced a little. He could already see   
where this was going. Any street kid who'd ever owed money knew. All Duo could do was pray   
it was over quick.  
  
Harrings leaned against the wall just inside the door. "Meet Private Ferris," he said with a smug   
smile.  
  
Duo rolled his eyes over to the beefy soldier. "I see."  
  
"Private Ferris is here to make sure you cooperate. I'm sure we'll have your full compliance?"  
  
Duo glared at Harrings. //At least the silence code makes things simple.//  
  
Harrings glared right back, a smirk pulling at his mouth. "First of all - what is the name of your   
companion? Which Gundam does he pilot?"  
  
Silence.  
  
"Gundam pilot 02, may I remind you that Private Ferris *will* enforce an answer."  
  
Silence.  
  
"Answer me or answer to Ferris!" Harrings roared.  
  
"I f***ing HEARD you!" Duo shouted back. "Screw you and your little OZ friends!"  
  
Immediately a big, beefy fist drove itself into Duo's cheek, sending Duo stumbling into the wall so   
hard he felt as if he'd dislocated the shoulder he landed on. He collapsed to the ground against the   
wall as he lost his footing. The fist was followed up with a foot to Duo's ribcage, and despite all   
efforts to contain it, a scream ripped out of Duo's throat as air whooshed out of his lungs and   
somthing cracked - again. Wheezing, Duo curled around his middle and squeezed his eyes shut   
against the pain of breathing as he swore not to cry.  
  
Footsteps indicated the approach of Harrings, and Duo opened his eyes to look up at the sergant.  
  
"You know I can have much worse done to you," Harrings said.  
  
Duo nodded mutely, not knowing how else to respond.  
  
"Then why don't you tell me what I want to know?"  
  
Duo opened his mouth to reply and was surprised when he choked and felt a thick, salty taste in   
his mouth. Swallowing back the blood, he shook his head instead.  
  
One of Ferris' big hands grabbed the front of Duo's shirt and dragged him upright, hoisting him   
right off the ground and holding him there. Harrings' fingers wrapped around Duo' jawline and   
turned the boy's head to face him. "Just between you and me," he nearly whispered, "I would love   
to see you suffer, rot in prison, and die. And I can make it so. Do you want to die that way, or   
painlessly - an execution with a hanging? Because if you answer me, that's all it'll be. Quick and   
simple."  
  
Duo listened, scowling, then smirked as Harring's wrapped up. "Then let's you and me make a   
bet," he suggested hoarsely. "I bet you can't do any worse to me than has already been done.   
And I've been through a LOT."  
  
Harrings scowled. "That would be a foolish bet to make, boy." He dropped his hand from Duo's   
neck and looked up at Ferris. "Give him something to cry about."  
  
Duo grimaced. This was going to hurt . . .  
  
Ferris grinned ferally and slammed a big old fist into Duo's torso before dropping him. Duo let all   
the air in his lungs out with a whoosh as he fell, stumbling. Ferris followed up with another   
punch, then another, until Duo slid to the ground, choking on the blood that kept rising in his   
throat.  
  
Harrings watched everything coldly. "I hope you learn something from this," he said quietly. "If   
you don't . . . " he sighed as if regretting something.  
  
"Stop the bullshit," Duo growled thickly, and a trickle of blood slid from the corner of his mouth   
to his chin. "What happens if I don't?"  
  
"Then I guess we'll just have to use your fellow pilot as an example . . . I'm sure no one will mind   
if I kill him."  
  
Duo winced, grinding his teeth together. //Heero . . . damn it! Damn damn damn damn damn . . .   
// Not even the Perfect Soldier was likely to survive being beheaded or a hanging or a firing   
squad. As he struggled to find an appropriate reply, Ferris settled the issue by landing a final fist   
in that magic place in Duo's stomach, sending the boy into blessed unconciousness.  
  
* * *  
  
4 hours to landing.  
  
Trowa checked the ETA again and settled back in the pilot seat of the air carrier. It would be a   
long day; he prepared to fall asleep and let the autopilot take over.  
  
As he closed his eyes, he couldn't help thinking about Quatre. The young Arabian had spent -   
Trowa did a few quick calculations - 42 hours straight awake. During that time he had exerted all   
his influence as the Winner heir to obtain the air carrier for the Heavyarms Kai and the Sandrock   
Kai and worried himself about Duo and Heero's safety almost to the point of a heart attack.   
Finally the boy had fallen asleep an hour ago, only after Trowa had assured him he was fine   
piloting the large carrier alone, and only after being reminded that worrying about Duo and Heero   
wouldn't make sure they were safe.  
  
Trowa frowned slightly, being a bit worried himself about the condition of his fellow pilots.   
Heero would be okay; Heero could withstand Gundam explosions. Duo . . . well, Duo could be   
knocked out by a punch in the stomach. Trowa supposed there was some sensitive spot down   
there that made Duo vulnerable, but it didn't really bode well for the rest of his body. Besides   
which, Duo still acted like a kid.  
  
Trowa thought about that for a moment. Sometimes Duo acted with remarkable clarity, but most   
of the time he acted plain dumb. How much of that laughter and those smiles were genuine, and   
how much were just a mask - like the mask of indifference Trowa himself wore?  
  
If Duo survived this mess, Trowa was going to have to talk to him.  
  
* * *  
  
Once again Duo woke up in an unfamiliar room. Moaning, he forced himself to sit up despite his   
older and newer injuries all screaming in protest and a splitting headache threatening to   
overwhelm his skull. //Today is *not* a good day,// he thought darkly, waiting for his eyes to   
adjust to the darkness of his new cell.  
  
This cell was much darker, and much larger. There was no facade here, and the room appeared to   
be made of steel or some other durable metal. The door, much to Duo's delight, had a lock - but   
it was a 7-button code, meaning it could take hours to crack.   
  
Duo himself was on a small, hard cot, and a First Aid Kit with a message attached - ~~Keep your   
friend and yourself alive~~ - was next to his leg. Duo blinked at it, then looked up to see another   
cot. This one had a *still* sleeping Heero on it, attached to an IV. Duo grimaced a little at   
Heero - the Perfect Soldier lying on a bed strapped to an IV didn't jive with Duo's image of his   
partner-in-terrorism.  
  
Swinging his legs over the bed, Duo took a deep breath, winced at the pain, and stood up on   
wobbly legs. For a moment he just stood there, trying not to fall. Once he gained his balance, he   
pulled his cot over next to Heero's and sat down on it, opening the First Aid box and preparing to   
clean Heero up.  
  
* * *  
  
The first thing Heero noticed was excruciating pain in both legs and his arm, and the next thing he   
noticed was how much it hurt to breathe. Then he realized someone was pushing his shirt up his   
chest.  
  
That wasn't right. Struggling, he tried to move from his supine position, but something had his   
arms tightly secured to one another, making it difficult without pain. Abruptly he heard a gentle,   
semi-desparate voice murmur in Japanese, "Maa, maa. Daijoubu, Heero-san, Daijoubu!"   
Something was familiar about the voice, but he ignored it and lifted his knee towards the voice   
forcefully, striking something.  
  
"OW! Dammit, Heero!" Immediately the perfectly inflected Japanese disappeared into a string of   
American curses just as Heero finally managed to open his eyes. "Holy f-in' . . . shit Heero, you   
just *had* to hit me in the *ribs*, didn't you!?"  
  
Duo Maxwell was sitting next to the Japanese pilot, curled around his clutched chest area with his   
eyes squeezed shut and teeth clenched. He didn't look to be in any better shape than Heero felt.   
"I didn't know you knew any Japanese outside of curses," Heero said, realizing his voice was   
raspy and hoarse from dehydration and lack of use. "I mistook you." It wasn't an apology,   
merely an explanation of a path of action.  
  
One of Duo's violet eyes opened and examined him. "Yeah, well . . . all that manga-reading had   
to pay off, right? Besides, L2's a pretty mixed colony - can't live there long without learning some   
other languages. Can't read much of it - Japanese, I mean." He straightened again with a wince,   
then directed, "Lay down and don't move so I can get these bandages around you."  
  
Heero frowned slightly and tried to remember what had transpired before he had blacked out, but   
all he found was a big 'blank'. Frustrated slightly by the memory loss, he asked, "Where are we   
and how did we get here?"  
  
Duo who was about to apply antiseptic to Heero's midsection, paused, then visibly paled.   
"Actually . . . well, um . . ."  
  
Heero applied the Glare of Death(TM), and the self-proclaimed God of Death flinched slightly.   
"Tell me."  
  
The braided pilot took a deep breath.   
"We'reinanOZfacilitybecauseIhadtoblowuptheWingandthenDeathscythecrashedandIhadtoblowitup  
butOZfoundourcrashsite," he gushed out.  
  
Heero actually blinked, then lowered his brows into his customary pissed look. "You WHAT!?"   
he growled, causing the other pilot to flinch.  
  
"Um . . . well, it's a long story . . . hell, we aren't going anywhere . . . " and Duo launched into a   
full synopsis of the past 2 days.  
  
"Omae o korosu." Heero gave Duo another Death Glare as the boy finished the lengthy story.  
  
Duo sighed heavily and once again began to apply antiseptic to the laceration and burns Heero   
had sustained. "Get in line. Anyway, you'll hafta wait 'til your mobile," he pointed out. "This'll   
sting." Duo gently rubbed the cleanser onto Heero's chest.  
"Why didn't you blow us up with your Gundam?" Heero demanded, ignoring the sting of the   
antiseptic.  
  
"I . . . I had hoped that there would be achance at rescue," Duo answered, then grimaced at   
something. "Brace yourself." Heero felt a suddn, sharp pain, then Duo held up a bloody slice of   
Gundanium. "This was in your side." He tossed the piece aside and bent over Heero again.  
  
Heero felt the slightest bit of agitation at Duo's inattentiveness. Supressing the emotion   
ruthlessly, he snapped, "We'd better off dead than in OZ's hands."  
  
Duo's eyes flickered up to meet Heero's, and a dangerous gleam was there. "That's what *you*   
think. In between life and death, Heero, always choose life if you can! Cling to the chance,   
Heero! You and your goddamn kamikaze attitude . . . maybe it's the Japanese blood . . ." Heero   
glared at Duo, and the latter actually rolled his eyes this time. "You're attached to an IV, Heero.   
You're not gonna look very intimidating."  
  
Heero averted his eyes to the ceiling and wondered for just an instant what made Duo so immune   
to his death threats. Then he realized that such a train of thought was extraneous and shouldn't be   
an issue. //Both Duo and Relena,// he thought. //They both make me thing of strange things . . .//   
"You know to keep that huge mouth of yours shut, don't you?"  
  
A huff of annoyance came from the direction of the braided pilot. "I'm not quite that thick,   
Heero."  
  
"Good." There there was an extensive silence.  
  
"I'm also not gonna give up that easily, Heero."  
  
Heero snorted. "What do you plan to do? We know nothing about this plce. To attempt escape   
would be suicide." He turned his head to look at the other pilot.  
  
Duo looked up to meet Heero's eyes, a smirk flickering across his lips. "I thought you'd be just   
  
fine with that . . . oh, stop glaring at me like that. I take it back." He carefully tugged Hero's shirt   
back over his stomach. "But seriously . . . It's been at least a day, maybe two since the   
schueduled mission. By the time I blew up Deathscythe, Trowa and Quatre may have already   
found our location. Which would mean they'll be here sometime in the next 8 hours, I think." He   
smiled vaugely. "Maybe we could send a flare up to help them find us, or . . . " he shurgged. "I   
dunno."  
  
"Baka." Heero pressed his pis together. "You don't even have a way out of this cell. Don't be a   
stupid captive."  
  
"Better'n being a dead one," Duo noted.  
  
"Sometimes one equals the other," Heero pointed out coldly. One thing alone could be credited   
to Duo Maxwell, and that was his stubborness.  
  
"And sometimes one can save you from being the other," Duo shot back. "Besides, I do have a   
way out of this cell. There's a 7-number code lock on the door, and I have this." Duo reached   
back and produced a lockpick from somewhere in his braid.  
  
Heero struggled to sit up. "This is crazy."  
  
"Thank you." Duo grinned lopsidedly, and for the first time Heero noticed the large bruise on his   
cheek. It looked like the bone underneath had been broken. "If we die escaping, it's still better   
than alive and captive, right?" Duo threw Heero's own philosophy back at him.  
  
Heero glared at him. "If we survive this, I *will* kill you."  
  
* * *  
  
Maa, maa - comfort sounds  
Daijoubu - It's okay  
Omae o korosu - Altogether now: "I'm going to kill you."  
  
I finally finished the sixth chapter! yay! THank you to all who wrote and asked me to finish.   
Chapter seven and the epilouge are coming (hopefully) soon! 


	8. Finale

Chapter 7 - Finale  
  
Warnings: bad language, Duo pain and (very little) torture  
  
* * *  
  
"This is crazy."  
  
"Geez. You got any better ideas?"  
  
"Hn." Heero, on his feet (somehow) despite his broken legs, was glaring an entire selection of culinary   
knives at Duo, whose primary focus rested on the lock on their cell door.  
  
"Had the feeling you'd say that." Sweat from concentration stood out on Duo's forehead; only 1 more   
number to bypass, and he and Heero would be free. Sure, it had taken a good 3 hours to get the first six   
numbers, but that wasn't too bad for such a complicated code. He was feeling rather proud of himself for   
solving it at all.  
  
Still, Duo's throat was dry, he felt like he had a fever, he could barely move his left arm, his hip throbbed,   
his formerly-dislocated knee was protesting movement, it hurt to breathe, and he was coughing up blood.  
  
In other words, Duo felt miserable.  
  
"Heero, you'll be able to run, right?" Duo asked, his tounge poking out of the corner of his mouth as he   
narrowed his eyes at the lock. If he nicked these two circuits, maybe they would reroute their voltage to   
the key processer, simulating the correct number . . .  
  
"Hn. Of course. What about you?" The question was delivered in the usual monotone - it wasn't voiced   
from concern, but from a need to know for the sake of Mission Escape, as Duo had dubbed it.  
  
"What *about* me?" Duo pointedly avoided the question, losing interest in the self-initiated conversation   
as he carefully slashed two resistance circuits in the lock with a razor. //Please, oh please let this work . . .   
// he begged God as he touched the cut ends together.  
  
The circuits overloaded; the voltage was automatically rewired, following the only path Duo had left it to   
follow - the activation key of the 7-digit code. The mutilated lock made a confirmation noise, and the   
door to Heero and Duo's cell slid open.  
  
The OZ soldiers guarding the door from the outside were so surprised to see the door slide open all on its   
own that even in their injured states, Duo and Heero made quick work of them.  
  
Now both armed with .38 caliber handguns*, the two Gundam pilots snuck off down the hall. Duo   
couldn't resist crowing quietly, "I am SO good!" to Heero, who just threw him a 'baka' look and kept   
going.  
  
Duo rolled his eyes, following. Geez, didn't Heero have anything even *resembling* a funny bone!?  
  
* * *  
  
"Look at all these tracks," Quatre marveled at the number of tanks and Leos that had seemed to pass   
through the area where Deathscythe had exploded. "Trowa, I don't think there's a chance we'll find   
anything useful here - especially not Duo and Heero."  
  
Trowa's gundam was lifting heavier pieces of Gundanium and leaning over to allow the pilot inside to   
check under them. Dropping one piece that appeared to be what remained of the arm of Duo's gundam,   
Trowa stated flatly, "If they're dead, we'll find them here."  
  
Quatre bit his lower lip and said resolutely, "They're both alive. They have to be! Let's just follow the   
tracks to the OZ base they're from and look."  
  
He couldn't think they were dead. He wouldn't give up on them so easily . . .  
  
Heavyarms Kai straightened even as Sandrock Kai lifted off the one knee it had been kneeling on. "Since   
there is no sign of their bodies, I think that would be an appropriate course of action." Trowa's face was   
deadpan on the monitor, even as he flickered away. Heavyarms Kai then began to march in the direction   
the tracks led.  
  
Quatre smiled slightly. Trowa had a kind heart; his friend at the circus was helping bring it out. Quatre   
hoped his nearly-emotionless partner found happiness for himself soon.  
  
But there was no time to think about that now. Bringing Sandrock up to a slow run, Quatre endeavoured   
to catch up with the fast-moving Heavyarms.  
  
* * *  
  
"The Gundam Pilots have escaped!"  
  
The news washed over the OZ base like a wildfire, sending all soldiers - on-duty or not - rushing about,   
searching for the two pilots' whereabouts or grabbing up weapons to fight them. By the time Duo and   
Heero had reached Level B-1 (they'd been imprisoned on Level B-3, or Basement 3, as it turned out), they   
were being passed by soldiers every minute or so, and the place seemed to be in an uproar.  
  
Duo found himself limping behind a resolute Heero, who showed no signs of his injuries other than   
suddenly developing a lack of balance. For the third time Duo grabbed Heero by the back of his green   
tank top and shoved him roughly into a corner before he could topple into a clamoring group of soldiers   
marching by. "If you're gonna fall on your face, can't you find a better time to do it!?" Duo hissed once   
the danger had passed. "Be careful!"  
  
Heero ignored Duo and pointed at a sign written entirely in kanji. "We were looking for the supply   
room." he stated. "It's this way." Once again he took off, jogging - jogging! - down the hallway, hugging   
the walls.  
  
Duo was dumbstruck for a moment, then smirked. "Go figure. Man, I thought *I* was gonna be the hero   
for once!**" He trotted after Heero, dislocated kneecap protesting all the way.  
  
* * *  
  
"Trowa, wait. We need to plan." Quatre said earnestly. Inwardly, he thought he might fly to pieces if he   
had to wait any longer to rescue his fellow pilots, but he and Trowa would do no good if they just came in   
and destroyed the base, quite possibly killing Duo and Heero themselves.  
  
"Understood." Trowa's face didn't change expression, but the Heavyarms Kai came to a halt.  
  
Quatre closed his eyes, thinking quickly. "The key is to rescue Duo and Heero, of course. As much as I   
hate to say it, however, if rescue becomes impossible, we will have to kill them." Quatre struggled not to   
let his voice crack on this last assertion. "Okay. From what we know of this OZ base, the cells are   
underground and in the main complex. Trowa, if you will go into the base to find Duo and Heero, I will   
cover you in Sandrock. Obviously, do not hesitate to kill Duo and Heero if you can't save them. Is this   
acceptable to you?" Quatre asked finally, requesting approval of his hastily-assembled plan.  
  
"It is acceptable." Trowa's face was still deadpan, but his eyes were on something in his lap. Quatre   
heard the *click* of a gun cartridge being loaded.  
  
"Good." Quatre paused to take a calming breath. "Open your cockpit, and I'll carry you into the base. I   
may not have a Deathscythe, but I think Sandrock can do some pretty decent stealth as well."  
  
* * *  
  
Trowa calmly stepped into the hand of Quatre's gundam and sat on the palm, carefully loading bullets into   
his gun of choice - a .44 Browning.*** Ignoring the lurch of the hand as Sandrock began to walk towards   
the OZ base, he contemplated killing Heero and Duo.  
  
He was worried.  
  
It was nothing more than a small niggle of fear, but Trowa knew that he didn't want to kill Heero and Duo   
from that fear.  
  
//Killing never bothered me before. Not even killing my partners in war. Because that was all they were -   
just partners. Does this mean the other Gundam pilots are my . . . friends?//  
  
This was not the sort of thing to contemplate while knowing you might have to kill them. Frowning   
slightly, he loaded the last bullet into his Browning and snapped the cartridge shut.  
  
"Trowa, I'm going to have to break open the wall on the second floor. You'll have to hurry! Take   
advantage of the confusion from the wall being destroyed," Quatre advised into the little earplug Trowa   
had slid into his ear so he could stay in touch with Quatre. "And good luck!"  
  
Sandrock punched a hole into the wall, and Trowa leapt through, adding a triple twist as he was inclined   
to do. Landing cleanly, he ran past several shocked OZ soldiers, looking for a way to get down to the   
basement levels.  
  
* * *  
  
The supply room, much to Heero's surprise, was unlocked. He set his teeth and eyed the partially ajar   
door suspciously. Duo huffed up behind him, panting for breath. He coughed violently, and when he took   
his hand away from his mouth, it was bloody.  
  
"The door is unlocked," Heero told Duo calmly, ignoring the sharp pangs of pain from his own legs and   
the blood Duo was coughing up. If he had permitted himself, Heero would have been limping. "Doesn't   
that seem a little odd to you?"  
  
Duo smiled and replied between breaths, "Sure. But what else are we going to do, especially considering   
that I can hear OZ soldiers coming down the hall now?"  
  
Heero cocked his head slightly and listened. Sure enough, the sound of several pounding feet reached his   
ears. "Let's go," he said calmly, entering the supply room and shutting its door behind Duo. Duo did his   
best to stifle his quick, heavy breaths as the OZ soldiers pounded by outside, and after a moment the   
danger had passed.  
  
"Great!" Duo wheezed, grinning like the idiot he was. "Now all we gotta do is get some flares so Trowa   
and Quatre can find us." Duo immediately began to slide his fingers along the numerous boxes in the   
huge room, apparently reading their labels in the dimness.  
  
Heero almost began to tell him to watch his back, but something - it sounded suspiciously like Dr. J - kept   
him from showing concern. //He's doing it again! How does Duo make me worry?// Heero thought darkly   
before turning to begin his own search.  
  
He turned right into the barrel of a gun.  
  
Startled, Heero raised a leg in a reflex Jujitsu motion, attempting to disarm whoever was holding the gun   
in his face. However, his broken leg forbade him cooperation and he collapsed uncerimoniously,   
struggling with a burst of blinding pain.  
  
The weilder of the offending gun stepped into sight, smiling slightly. "Don't try anything, Gundam Pilot   
01. I will be just as happy to end your life now as later." The man - an OZ officer - towered over the   
fallen Heero, eyes cold with hatred.  
  
"Then go ahead." Heero monotoned. He recalled, vaugely, placing a gun to his own head after one   
particular mission. Only the acceptance of a new mission had stopped him from pulling the trigger.  
  
The OZ officer smirked and leaned down to drag Heero to his feet. "No. I have better uses for you . . . "  
  
* * *  
  
Duo wandered around the storeroom, his head throbbing and feeling vaugely confused. He couldn't even   
read many of the kanji inscriptions on the boxes; even the ones he could read were labeled incorrectly.   
With a sigh of frustration, Duo turned the corner around a shelf of old mortar shells.  
  
He came face to face with a nightmare.  
  
Heero was walking with his hands in the air. A gun, barely visible in the dim supply room, was pressed   
against his neck, and at arm's length behind him walked an OZ officer.  
  
The officer was Harrings. Duo made a growling noise and lifted his gun.  
  
"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Harrings smirked, pressing the gun a little more firmly into the soft   
skin of Heero's neck. "I told you I wanted to see you suffer, right?" Stepping up so he was next to Heero,   
but still at arm's length, he jerked his head in Heero's direction. "This is the one you seem so eager to   
protect, no?"  
  
Duo grit his teeth and tried to communicate to Heero with his eyes. Heero, however, seemed introspective   
and unaware. //Great time to finally become self-aware, Heero!// Duo thought darkly, feeling panic creep   
in. Why wasn't Heero trying to escape? //Maybe he . . . wants to die?// "What do you want, you mother-  
f***ing son of a --"  
  
"Tsk tsk, such language," Harrings shook his head, blue eyes never swerving off of Duo. "What I want is   
for you to watch your best friend die. To suffer the pain of loss." Harrings smiled cruelly, reveling in the   
glory of the moment. "To know how I felt because of you."  
  
Duo slumped his shoulders, looking skeptical even as he shoved down rising terror. "What the hell are   
you talking about?"  
  
"You killed my brother, Gundam Pilot 02! Do you know how painful it is to lose your own family!? I   
want you to know what I felt, before you die, too!" The maniacal gleam in Harrings' eyes was frightening.   
"I want you to taste the death of a friend!"  
  
Duo gave him a baleful look and laughed derisively. "'Taste Death'? I *am* Death!"  
  
Harrings snarled at him, but a spark of fear flickered in his eyes for an instant.  
  
Duo hoisted his gun, his mind too exhausted and sick of this crazy adventure to be struck by the   
melodrama of Harrings' announcement, and his concern for Heero's life too great to care. "If you miss   
your brother that much," Duo asked scathingly, "Why don't you join him in Hell!?"  
  
He squeezed the trigger.  
  
Harrings' body slumped to the ground, a hole in his forehead and his brain splattered over a remarkably   
large area behind him.  
  
But his trigger finger convulsed. The gun in Harrings' lifeless hand went off. "NOOO!" Duo choked,   
shocked as he saw a spatter of blood arise on the wall next to Heero . . .   
  
* * *  
  
Quatre whipped his scimitars through two Leos and turned away as they exploded in balls of flame. He   
was amazed by the speed with which the base had deployed its defenses; however, it was all the better to   
Quatre, whose job was to create as much ruckus as possible in order that the focus of the base personnel   
wouldn't rest on Trowa, Duo, and Heero.  
  
Trowa's voice crackled through their mike connection. "I'm on the B-1 floor now, Quatre. This area is   
suspiciously devoid of soldiers. Also, I have confirmation that both pilots were brought to this base alive."  
  
Quatre didn't bother questioning Trowa in favor of crying "Yokatta!" as loudly as he could in his joy.   
"Find them, Trowa! We've got to get them out of here before that status changes . . . "  
  
* * *  
  
The gun in Harrings' lifeless hand went off. "NOOO!" Duo choked, shocked as he saw a spatter of blood   
arise on the wall next to Heero . . .   
  
And the Perfect Soldier remained standing, hand clasped to his neck.  
  
Duo gaped at Heero. "Y-you really *aren't* human, are you!?"  
  
Heero gave Duo a 'baka' look again. "Didn't you realize the hand would convulse? I knocked the gun   
aside at the last possible moment when I saw you pull the trigger. The bullet only grazed my neck."  
  
Duo slumped in relief. "Thank goodness . . . "  
  
"You're not out of the woods just yet," came a voice from over Heero's shoulder. The Shinigami and the   
Perfect Soldier whirled, straining to see who the intruder was as they lifted their guns.  
  
The deep-voiced intruder stepped into the dim light.  
  
Zechs Marquiese. And about twenty OZ soldiers, all carrying guns trained on the two pilots.  
  
"Aw shit." Duo dropped his gun, as did Heero, and raised his hands in the air. "All this trouble for   
nothing . . . "  
  
Zechs smiled faintly, and Duo had the distinct feeling he was being laughed at.   
  
"You both put up an impressive fight," Zechs remarked idly, making no move to take them back into   
custody. "I am fascinated by you Gundam pilots - young men willing to give up so much for their cause . .   
. " he trailed off, placing his chin in his hand. "What could inspire anyone to such heroism?"  
  
Duo was about to reply with a decidedly foul-mouthed retort when Heero abruptly spoke up. "We fight   
according to our emotions and our beliefs. The strength of our belief determines how well we fight."  
  
Duo felt his jaw drop open.  
  
Heero ignored him. "It is not heroism; we are killers. But we kill because of what we know to be true,"   
he continued calmly.  
  
Zechs smiled another gentle smile, this time as if in approval. "I see," he said quietly, appreciatively.   
"Unfortunately, your beliefs conflict quite strongly with OZ's," he continued in a louder voice. "I am   
forced to take you into custody again. Private, would you - "  
  
"Stop."  
  
Duo gaped again as yet *another* intruder entered the circle, his gun trained on Zechs' chest. His long   
brown bangs covered one green eye as he looked over the gathering in the semi-dark of the supply room.   
"Trowa," Duo sighed, partially with relief and partially with disbelief. "You made it . . . "  
  
"We did," Trowa agreed, with a nod to Duo. Then his green eye flickered up to Zechs. "Sir, have your   
soldiers put down their guns unless you wish to die."  
  
Duo's gaze flew to Zechs, who had lifted his hands into the air. He was smiling still; he seemed so   
disgustingly *pleased* by the situation. "I see," he said again. "Very well. Men, lay down your arms," he   
directed.  
  
The soldiers obeyed wordlessly, backing up several feet as they did so until they were once again obscured   
in shadow.  
  
This set Duo's teeth on edge. "Hey, make them come out again!" Duo hissed. "We can't be sure what   
they're up to in the shadows -"  
  
"Don't worry, they've retreated," replied the Lieutenant, unflustered by the gun at his back. "This seems   
rather unfair - three to one, I mean."  
  
Duo bent down to pick up his gun while Trowa checked Zechs for weapons and Heero set the saftey on his   
own. "Yeah? Well, try telling me that twenty to two is fair," Duo retorted. "Wasn't that the situation we   
were in a minute ago?"  
  
Zechs laughed again. "So you were." He half-turned as if to see Trowa; the 'clown' turned with him,   
obscuring his face with his bangs and the dim light.  
  
"My face is not for your eyes," Trowa said quietly. "Give me your word you will not call for help or try to   
hurt us, and I will take this gun off you."  
  
"You have my word."  
  
Trowa nodded once and holstered his gun at his side. "Take us to the roof."  
  
"Certainly," Zechs agreed as if agreeing to take them to a parlor for tea. Duo wrapped his fingers more   
tightly around his own gun; *he* didn't trust Zechs any farther than he could throw him. Limping   
alongside Heero, he coughed up some more blood and smiled. It looked like this crazy adventure was   
finally drawing to a close.  
  
* * *  
  
Quatre surveyed the destrution he had caused and winced; it made him sad to see the death he and   
Sandrock Kai produced. How sad that the Gundams should be designed only for mass destruction . . .  
  
"Quatre, we're on the roof of the main complex," Trowa's voice crackled over the radio. "Heero and Duo   
are hurt, but alive. We'll need to get in your cockpit."  
  
Quatre's heart nearly burst from the release of pent-up anxiety. "Thank Allah! I see you," he added,   
getting a visual of Heero, Duo, and Trowa all standing on the roof with . . . Zechs Marquiese!? "Trowa,   
why -?"  
  
"We'll explain later," Heero's voice cut in. "That is unimportant. We must leave as soon as possible."  
  
"Of course." Quatre nodded and extended the hand of his gundam towards the foursome. Trowa helped   
Heero onto the hand as Quatre watched, then climbed on himself, holding Heero in place. Quatre moved   
the hand up to the cockpit and opened the door; climbing out of the seat, he helped Heero, who seemed a   
bit off-balance, to sit down next to the cockpit seat. Trowa stayed on the hand, which Quatre began to   
lower again -  
  
"DUO!" Quatre shouted.  
  
Zechs was holding Duo by twisting his left arm up behind his back. Duo's eyes were screwed shut, his   
face a mask of pain. Zechs smiled slightly and shouted, "I did not promise to not take any of you into   
custody!"  
  
Quatre screamed as Zechs began to drag Duo to the door onto the roof.  
  
* * *  
  
"I thought you were all about honor!" Duo protested, struggling while his fractured arm and crushed wrist   
gave him hell about their position against his back.  
  
Zechs nodded. "I believe in honor, but I also believe in ideals," he explained calmly. "If I am captured by   
the Gundam pilots, I cannot protect those ideals."  
  
"Man, you are vain," Duo growled. "You think we have the time to capture someone like you -" he was   
cut off when a poor twist in his struggles sent him into excruciating pain.  
  
"I cannot risk it," Zechs answered, almost sadly.  
  
Duo saw red. It was bad enough when his enemy taunted him; this pretend chivalry was even worse!   
"Leggo!" he screamed, lifting his heel behind him.  
  
He struck gold. Zechs' grip weakened as Duo kicked the family jewels. Duo slid out of the hold and let   
his left arm go slack and useless, breathing hard. "*That's* what I think of your ideals," he snarled.  
  
Zechs eyed Duo during their short standoff . . . then smiled yet again. "I have underestimated you, Duo   
Maxwell," he said. "Well. I have learned much. Until we meet again . . . " the Lieutenant ducked into   
the door to the roof.   
  
Duo felt like he'd just built up to a huge climax only to have someone pull the rug out from under him.  
  
"Duo! Duo! Are you okay!?" Quatre's shouts of desperation reached Duo's ears, and he turned to face the   
blond-haired pilot.  
  
It was over . . .  
  
Duo smirked, the corner of his mouth turning upwards and his violet eyes narrowing with mirth and   
mischief. "'Okay'?" he repeated, shaking his head in reproach. "Hell, Quatre. We're great. We   
*survived*."  
  
Quatre smiled, his oversized blue eyes shutting as he did so. "Yokatta ne!"  
  
Duo smiled back . . . and slumped forward, the adrenaline he'd been runing on for the past 3 days   
draining out of him. "Yeah . . . 'Thank God' is right . . . "  
  
And Duo fell into a much-deserved, deep sleep.  
  
* * *  
  
* These handguns have a pretty impressive kick! I wonder if it would even be possible for someone who   
had a broken bone to shoot it accurately . . .  
  
** No pun intended, I swear it.  
  
*** These guns, I have heard, have a good balance and grip, and are also rather bloody things. ^__^   
Trowa's gun, much like Duo's .45 magnum from earlier, can create large holes in the body. In case you're   
wondering, Heero carries a .38 caliber like the ones issued to the soldiers, and Quatre carries a .22 pistol.   
.22's aren't nearly as . . . destructive . . . as the selections of the other pilots.  
  
baka - idiot  
yokatta, yokatta ne - an exclaimation of joy, like 'thank goodness'. I use it as 'Thank God' here.  
  
Well, you've seen my (pathetic and long) climax now! Isn't it ridiculous!? I couldn't get too dramatic for   
Duo because he's already had the crap beaten out of him, so I made up for excitement with length . . . ugh.   
Sorry!  
  
One more section to go . . . 


	9. Epilogue

Epilouge  
  
Warnings: ummm . . . some more bad words. So sue me, they're soldiers! ^____^x  
  
* * *  
  
Duo woke up to an unfamiliar white ceiling and an IV bag dangling over his head. With a groan, he tried   
to sit up. Gentle hands pushed him back onto the bed carefully. "Whoa there, boy. You should take it   
easy for a few days," said a voice he identified as Howard's after a moment.  
  
The Shinigami rolled his head over to gaze as the old man. "Hey . . . what the hell happened?" he   
croaked, smiling a little. He felt like a fog had smothered him, and a vague sensation of floating struck   
him as he spoke.  
  
"Quatre had to drag you and Heero back to the safehouse, and Trowa called me. You'll be moving again   
in a week, under the orders of Doctor J - this house has been too exposed. You feeling all right?"   
Howard's words were gentle, as if speaking too loud would make Duo crumble.  
  
Of course, considering that in some undefinable way, Duo was perched on the edge of a migraine, the   
pilot wasn't complaining.  
  
"I'm okay," Duo said automatically. "How's Heero?"  
  
"Heero is healing quickly, of course. You . . . well, I've never seen someone sustain as many injuries and   
keep kicking. We nearly lost you."  
  
"Really?" Duo found himself morbidly fascinated, despite himself; he wondered if he'd undergone some   
near-death hallucination and just couldn't remember. "Guess I'm not ready to die."  
  
"Good thing," Howard smiled. "Quatre would've been devastated."  
  
Duo grinned again and chuckled. His sides hurt from it. "Just what did I 'sustain'?" he asked, half-  
jokingly and half out of curiousity. All he remembered of the injuries were they hurt like Hell itself.  
  
Howard smirked. "You really wanna know? Lemme see . . . a commuted fracture of the wrist*, complex   
fracture of the left humerus, 5 cracked ribs and two broken ones, lacerated liver and kidneys, crushed   
intestine (which we had to remove), dislocated kneecap, numerous skin lacerations, and bruising," he   
wrapped up.  
  
Duo whistled. "That's all? Felt like more," he smirked.  
  
"Musta hurt like a bitch," Howard acknowledged with a smile.  
  
"Damn straight," Duo laughed. Then he fell sober again. "Well, guess my contract with the God 'o Death   
isn't up quite yet," he said quietly, to himself.  
  
"Yeah," Howard agreed in an equally quiet voice. "You done good, boy." Standing, the old man stepped   
out of the room. "Just don't tell Quatre how bad off you were. He might faint!"  
  
Duo smiled wanly and laid his head back down, feeling a little introspective and very lucky. //Dear God .   
. . I don't know why you let a bastard like me keep living, but thanks.// He grinned, and then Quatre was   
coming in the room with Trowa and Wufei and the room was filled with chatter and people.  
  
//It's a Day in the Life of a Gundam Pilot,// Duo thought incredulously, laughing suddenly. //Just another   
day.//  
  
//But at least we lived to see it.//  
  
* * *  
  
THE END  
  
* * *  
  
*Commuted fracture of the wrist - a phrase shamelessly stolen from Achetropia Atropos (with many   
thanks to Katsu no Miko!), it means, basically, that the bones in the wrist are broken into a lot of little   
pieces and are just sorta floating vaugely in the area where they're supposed to be. I don't know if you can   
use a wrist with such an injury. But Duo's a Gundam Pilot, so I get to extend him into the superhuman,   
okay? ^___^x  
  
Notes: This chapter goes introspective, just cuz Duo finally has time to sit back and consider everything   
that just happened. More importantly, he's not on a huge adrenaline rush or trying to be practical. So,   
he's kinda pensive, a little sarcastic, and very bemused by the whole concept of life. (translation: Minako   
has been analyzing his character for too long again.) Yada yada yada. Sorry that this is a departure from   
the rest of the fic, but I'm not on caffiene for a change.  
  
General fic notes: I can't believe this took me nine months to finish! Many apologies to all who wanted   
to see the end of the fic! I'm such an awful person.  
  
My writing style visibly changes as the story progresses. It's better now than it used to be.  
  
I have another fic written, but I have to find the disk that contains the information. ::wince:: Sorry!  
  
Back to the fic: I torture Duo too much. And you didn't even get to read the *original* version of chapter   
6! That was evil.  
  
On the subject of characters: I love Duo very much. This is why I torture him. For understanding of this   
roundabout logic, please see other harem-owners. I do like Heero, too. He was incapacitated for a long   
time because I wanted Duo to be the hero. Heero needing help is nearly unheard of in straight fics. This   
was my oppurtunity to make it so. Trowa is hard for me to write; I think he's too much like Heero in this   
particular fic. Quatre comes off as a real softie. He's tougher than I make him out to be. On the other   
hand, I really don't much like Zechs. (WHY did he have to have such a pretty face!?!) So, he comes off   
as a conniving, evil OZ overlord. I transferred the Trieze sporting attitude to him, too, darn it! Some of   
the conniving appearance is because it's from Duo's POV, basically, and he doesn't much like Zechs   
either. Duo sees black and white, and Zechs sees gray. They don't mix well.  
  
Final apologies: Someone said that I use too much swearing. You're right, and I'm sorry, but I'm not   
changing it. I wrote under the influence - of Tom Clancy novels, that is. I like Tom Clancy, and I'm too   
lazy to fix all of those chapters up . . .  
  
Sorry again for taking so long.  
  
Sorry for torturing Duo so much.  
  
Sorry for any OOCness.  
  
And now this epic is finally over! ::Vikki checks it off on her to-do list:: Time to do my Geoscience!   
^______^x  
  
Signing off,  
Vikki


End file.
